Tales of Albion: Old Friends
by Harry Truman Wilson
Summary: 1 year has passed since the death of the Crawler, and now the people of Albion live in peace and comfort. However, an old sorcerer reappears and is out for vengeance, and now its up to Reaver to save himself from the wrath of the Hero of Will. Only Page X Ben, I promise.
1. Part 1: Chapter 1: Reunions

Before we begin, I must thank Darth Azrael for all the help. I really appreciate it, and without you, this wouldn't have been possible.

* * *

Part 1: Garth Returns

Chapter 1

Reunions

"All stand to attention, for her majesty, the Queen of Albion and Aurora!" Hobson, the shortest, fattest, and most hated of the Queen's many allies cried out. The balding, white haired, fool of a man scoffed when anyone suggested that he slow down on deserts, or be more concise in his speeches. Hobson was sure, however, that he had every right and reason to speak as he did.

"Good morning, members of the court," The Queen said calmly, moving slowly through a thin walkway of her people. Albans and Aurorans had gathered in the viewing sections of the throne room as the Queen took her position in the elongated and sword shaped throne of Albion. She leaned back and breathed a sigh of relief. Even now, having sat before her people, passing judgments week after week for the past two years, some days it felt like a dream. She'd defeated the Crawler, but lost her loyal knight and close friend Sir Walter in the process. She'd also rescued and married her childhood lover, now Prince Elliot. All of this occurred in the span of a single year. Her brother had never done anything like it in his fifteen. The Queen wondered for a moment where former King Logan was. After he'd resigned and left the throne to his sister, he'd supposedly left to go exploring. Ben Finn, another close ally of the Queen, had returned from his promise of adventuring after only a few weeks due to a run in with a gnome and an army of Half-Breeds, some other evil monsters. Finn was now a Major in charge of all the soldiers stationed in the heavily forested valleys of the Mountains of Mistpeak and the nearby village of Brightwall. She wanted to stop this court session, go to Brightwall herself and just talk to Ben. He had quite a story; she'd seen pages of his diary strewn across the lands of Albion, and she had plenty of questions she could ask him.

"Furthermore, I believe that investing more money in the Brightwall academy would be a waste of our resources, of which, we have a meager amount, but are in no position to give handouts," The Queen snapped back into focus, suddenly noticing Hobson and Samuel standing before her, presenting their cases. She allowed Hobson to continue ranting about the lack of monetary resources available.

"The crown is not made of money mister Samuel. We cannot simply give out the sums of gold because the academy is starting to become decrepit. We must be conservative with our spending for vastly more important matters, like the army upkeep, or the castle fountains." The Queen knew Hobson often would roll around in the treasury late at night, but at the court he claimed often that the excess amount was going toward maintaining the castle's décor.

"But…your majesty, we…we need the funds to keep the academy free. If you refuse us our annual allotment of money, we'll have to start charging students to keep the school open, and so many of our students come from the poorer parts of the kingdom!" Samuel was an old man, older than Hobson, but a great deal more contained. Despite the stress of running the academy since its reopening two years ago, Samuel had aged gracefully, and his grey hair and wrinkles gave him an appearance of wisdom, not the ugliness that age had afflicted on Hobson's features.

"Samuel, please relax. You'll have your funding. Knowledge is far more important than any private castle expenditures," The Queen said reassuringly turning her attention to her disgruntling servant.

"Make it happen."

"Yes your majesty." Hobson bowed and left, and the people cheered and started to exit in front of her, crowding the tiny doorway of the throne room. It was a well decorated and beautiful area, having been described as angelic, wondrous, even divine, but more often than not, it was simply described as good. It was costly, however, to maintain the beauty of the castle with her two children running loose. Increasing child benefits two years ago was a good idea. The Queen sighed and slumped a bit, her head in her hand as she felt the weight of the monarchy on her shoulders. Hobson exited the room, grumbling about never getting anything, but the Queen ignored him. Ever since her ally and former hero, Reaver, moved on to bigger and better things, the government projects which would save money, (usually at the expense of the poor or needy) had to be defended by Hobson, which made them most unpleasant to agree to, even if they were necessary. "_Dammit Hobson!" _the Queen thought, _"It takes a special kind of annoyance to make someone miss Reaver's sly voice." _Hobson returned at that moment, provoking the Queen to bark at her loyal subject.

"What?" She said was a hint of anger, prompting Hobson to stop mid-step.

"Uh…well…your majesty, I've allotted the funds as instructed, and the people of Brightwall have presented to you a small token of their appreciation. It is a first class invitation to the official _"Academia Extravaganza," _a two year anniversary for the reopening of the academy. It seems that all of Brightwall will be celebrating the event. However, based on your tone, I will throw the invitation into the trash and move on to the other days duties without delay," Hobson said with a knowing smile. The Queen sighed and waved him over, rubbing her temples. Hobson was not only egotistical, self-centered, and a coward, he could also read people easily, which made him even more frustrating to be around. Hobson bowed before his ruler and handed her the letter.

She started to read the long winded invitation when the main doors to the throne room burst open again, this time, two guards, both with weapons drawn, and facing out of the room, backed slowly toward the Queen. Hobson, fearing the worst, ran behind the throne and hid, quivering. The Queen drew her pistol and started to summon a fireball in one hand, readying herself. She survived a few assassination attempts, and this would be no different. She prepared for a well-trained swordsman, or a large mercenary or even one of the speedy and sneaky Sand Furies of the south, but not what she saw.

"Elliot!" The Queen screamed. Her husband was in a head lock, held by a dark skinned white haired man of about sixty. Or so she assumed. The man was covered in glowing blue lines, similar to the ones her father had. He had told her that these markings were the mark of a natural master of Will, someone who would not need the magic gauntlets to cast spells. His white hair was in tight braids and tied back on his head, though the length of the braids forced them to be tied back with a strip of leather. He had a thin beard on his chin which was also braided. Prince Elliot, the spouse of the Queen of Albion, was wearing his tan waistcoat and navy blue breeches, along with a royal blue hip cape. He was sweating profusely, and his brown hair was wildly out of place.

"A Will-user…" the Queen whispered in amazement.

"Take me to Reaver…" The man said in a cold, almost unfeeling voice, his accent marking him as a Samarkander. The Queen noticed a monocle covering his left eye, which was a dim gray.

"Who are you? Why are you holding that man hostage?" the Queen challenged, feigning boldness.

"My love? How could you show so little care for one claim to love so?" Elliot asked, now more insulted by the Queen than afraid of the Will-user.

"Elliot, for goodness sake, I was trying to save you by acting like I didn't know you! Don't be such a fool to think I don't love you!" the Queen said, pinching her temples.

"Enough! I said take me to Reaver!" He glared at the Queen and a line of swords appeared in the air and flew past her, stabbing into the throne and sending Hobson screaming to the corner of the room. He glared at the guards and a shockwave of force sent them slamming against pillars, leaving the Queen standing alone. She started to stammer, struggling to comprehend that the man was a spell caster like herself, but vastly more powerful.

"I can't! I…I don't know where exactly Reaver is! I can show you where he used to live, and even where his factory is, but Reaver no longer comes to the castle… I'll help you, but please, for my sake…let go of my husband," the man hesitated then loosened his grip, allowing Elliot to running tearfully into the Queen's arms.

"You truly are Sparrow's daughter…"

"What?"

"Take me to his factory. Now!"

"Absolutely, sir. I must ask though…What is your name?"

"…" The man waited a moment, as if peering into the Queen's soul, seeing if she was truly worthy of his name. He sighed deeply, and folded his arms.

"Garth."

* * *

"Thank you, people of Bowerstone, for making this all possible. For you, the good men and women of Bowerstone, to have elected me mayor of this fine city, I am touched. But I am also proud. Proud to be part of such an upstanding and amazing metropolis! When I demanded child benefits were increased, the Queen listened and doubled them. When I demanded we refurbish the orphanage in Bowerstone, the Queen did it as well. I allied myself to the Queen because she promised to end the exploitation of the people of Bowerstone, and with your help, we have! I continue to serve all the people of Bowerstone, not just the rich. But I will not just serve the poor either. I will serve its entire people, now and forever!" The people standing in the crowd before Page applauded excitedly. Page herself could barely believe it as she waved to her supporters, _"A street rat, like me, becoming the mayor of the biggest and richest city in Albion. How times have changed!" _Page moved to leave the stage. Her long brown hair was in curls which rested on her shoulders, and she wore a long purple dress which was the closest thing she had to formal wear. She was almost off the stage when a familiar figure in a white coat and black hat found his way onto the platform behind her.

"Page, Page, Page! How dare you host such a fantastic event for this historic occasion and not invite me! I am offended, I may even shed a tear," the man said.

"I don't care…Reaver!" Page said, stomping her foot at him like a pouting child. She turned around to find the man, with sly expression on his face. He wore a brown waistcoat and a white tail coat with its lapels back, revealing its black fur lining. He also wore a top hat with a pair of goggles around it, and always carried his cane with him. He also had a belt around his waist with two pistols in it, giving him an air of deadliness wherever he went. Page hated getting angry…but she hated Reaver more.

"Go away Reaver. And for goodness sake, stop talking to me," Page said, marching back onto the stage and staring the man down. He stared back at her, the smile only widening on his face. His perfect features, black curled hair, and beauty mark made immensely good looking and irresistible. Page's hate, however, was so deep that she was almost immune to the effects of his handsome figure. Almost.

"Oh, Page, I'm hurt by your disinterest," he said, placing his hand on his heart and leaning forward. Page grew even more irritated at this.

"No, you're not hurt yet. But you certainly will be when I'm done."

"Now, now, no need to get testy. As the man responsible of Bowerstone's factory district, Bower Industrial and the employment of the vast majority of its people, I would like to congratulate our city's newest ruler. I have a present for you, to honor you on this occasion."

"What is it, the smog from your dirty air? Or how about the brown water of the sewers that you've dumped into the city of Mourningwood?"

"No, it is in fact, something I came across in your old hideout in those very sewers. Gentlemen Girod, bring forth the gift," A man, wearing a pink suit with gold outlines and with a mustache so wide it looked silly, stepped forward. He also had what appeared to be a pillar of hair on his head. He was holding a large, flat box, _"Either he, or whoever dressed him is blind," _Page thought.

"My lady, here it is. Avo's Lamentation!" The gentlemen opened the box to reveal the legendary sword. It had glowing lines of extreme good on it and a slightly curved handle. It also had the head of a balvarine carved into the crossguard; the weapon had no doubt slain one of the screaming monstrosities in the past.

"Reaver…how did you find this?" Page reached for the sword and picked it up slowly. She rubbed her hand on it, sliding a gloved finger on the sword's edge.

"When one goes poking around in other's chests, it becomes easy to find a slew of items. I hope you appreciate it. And remember that I am not all evil. I did turn all of my child labor factories into schools, if you recall."

"The Queen told you to," Page said, much more focused on her new weapon than the man she hated, felt a little drawn back by the move. Why would Reaver give her a brand new sword? Did he want to convince his ruler that he could cooperate with her closest allies? Page had fought with the Queen early in the revolution against Reaver. The evil businessmen had ultimately released a hoard of balvarines on her. What was he playing at?

"I do hope you appreciate your legendary weapon. I find mine is quite helpful," He said, twirling his trademark cane and ignoring her comment. He carried the thing everywhere, despite the fact that it was only for formalities.

"Now, as you know, my factory is technically a part of your city, more importantly, it falls under the same jurisdiction for corporate taxes."

"No Reaver, I'm not going to lower your taxes."

"I'm not asking for lower taxes! I only ask for a small break to help increase growth for…" Reaver was stopped from finishing his sentence by a blast of a fireball, which knocked him from the stage onto the ground behind it. Everyone in the audience and Page turned back to find a tall, dark skinned man with white hair and blue lines all across his body, magical swords twirling around his head like a halo.

"You…just…did you kill…Welcome to Bowerstone hero! You have just done us a great favor!" Page's comment was followed by cheering. The man received a few pats on the back before he called forth a force push spell and sent everyone flying in different directions.

"Silence. He's not dead. I will kill him, but not for an audience. Disperse. Now!" The man launched the swords into the crowd. The swords did not strike anyone, but the people of the crowd broke off and ran screaming nonetheless. Page, seemingly frozen by his violence, fell down onto her rump, and simply sat on the stage. The man walked up onto the stage and looked at the woman.

"You are a decedent of the first Samarkand settlers, aren't you?"

"…yes…why, hero of the southern lands, are you so violent? I thought the people of Samarkand were peaceful."

"We were. But this man has turned us cold and vengeful."

"Now, now, you've always been cold and vengeful. It didn't take me to do that!" Reaver said, lifting himself slowly from the ground. As he stood up he turned to the Samarkand and smiled brightly, "Garth! It's such a pleasure to see you! You look absolutely dreadful my dear fellow, though age has been kinder on you than most."

"Reaver…you brought death, destruction, and mass darkness to Samarkand. I don't know what you told the Shadow Court, but whatever it was, you turned the last ten years of my life into hell. And you are going to pay."

"Shadow court…you're not mad about the explosion…what? I didn't know about the Shadow Court attacking Samarkand." Reaver drew back from the flames that licked Garth's fingers as the Samarkander shoved his hand in the immortal's face.

"You're going to die Reaver. I hope you are ready."

"Garth, please, let's talk about this…I didn't tell the Shadow court to kill more than…how many was it again?…six people! That's it! I didn't tell them to invade. Give me a chance."

"Sparrow gave you a chance and you betrayed him. Twice! First by sending him to lose his youth to the Shadow Court and then turning him over to that monster hell bent of world domination, Lucien. I gave you a chance to live in Samarkand and you invited your evil court into my nation. I think we've given you too many chances." Garth charged up a fireball and was about to throw it at Reaver when the Queen intervened by grabbing the hero's hand. Page, shocked and enraged by the Queen taking Reaver's side jumped from the stage and tried to hold the Queen back.

"Your majesty, sometimes one has to pay for one's mistakes," Page said, struggling with the heroine. She knew she was no match for the Queen in a strength contest but tried anyway.

"But Page, the math doesn't add up," the Queen said, pushing her aside. She went to Reaver and stood next to him, leaving Page and Garth opposite of the man.

"If the last ten years of Samarkand history were hell, then those years couldn't have been caused by Reaver. Fairaday Industries was taken over by Reaver nine years ago, but before then, he served as a royal advisor of King Logan. Had he gone on a journey to Samarkand to sacrifice people to the Shadow Court in order to maintain his immorality, he would have been missed around the castle."

"Indeed. The Queen speaks the truth," Reaver said, standing tall again and smiling slyly at Garth. His face slipped into a frown and he looked back at the Queen, "How do you know about the Shadow Court?"

"Absolute good behind a facade of moral ambiguity. So much like your father." Garth said thoughtfully, folding his arms.

"That's it? A chance to finally kill Reaver, and the Queen stops it! With all due respect Majesty…"

"Page, that's enough!"

"But…"

"Enough!"

"Why, it seems we are all on edge here, and have had some of our more precious secrets revealed. I believe I know a way to blow off some steam, at least for my dear friend from Samarkand. Why don't you and I go to Brightwall, where you old tower is. I believe I can prove that I wasn't involved in the attack on you poor, pitiful nation."

"Why should I trust you?" Garth said coldly, turning to Reaver.

"Because you can still blow me to pieces anytime you wish. You've obviously gained quite a bit of power while I have been basking in the luxury of the talents graced to me from my birth. You could defeat me, if you wish." Reaver's eyes flashed yellow as he smiled and patted his pistols. "Not easily of course...but you could probably still win." Garth sighed deeply, than turned to Page and the Queen.

"It seems I'll be traveling with Reaver for some time. I'll return to properly meet the new queen of Albion once Reaver's finished proving himself. Or dead. I would like to get to know the dear daughter of Sparrow. And maybe his son…" Garth thought for a moment, then recalled the name, "Logan… I believe, could join us."

"I don't think Logan will be making it to our meeting, but I would be happy to get to know you, Garth, friend of my father. Welcome to Albion! And good luck with Reaver. You'll no doubt need it," The Queen said, leaving the two and dragging Page forcefully with her.

"Ah, the Queen. What a figure. So quaint, so loving, so cute, yet vicious and violent when she needs to be! Oh how I wish I could bed her," Reaver said longingly. Garth looked at him with the same cold stare he gave most things.

"Let's go."

"Ah, yes…I suppose I have quite a bit to explain…don't I?"

"Quite a bit."


	2. Part 1: Chapter 2: Brightwall Academy

Chapter 2

Brightwall Academy

"Citizens of Mistpeak, Millfields, Bowerstone, even those who have traveled here from distant Aurora, welcome to Brightwall village for our second annual week-long celebration of _Academia Extravaganza!_It was four difficult years ago when King Logan closed this very Academy, preventing men and women from learning and growing in their knowledge or skill, claiming it was too costly to maintain the facility. Then, it was two and a half years ago when a hero, one of the blessed people of Albion who have immense powers in strength, skill, and magical abilities known as Will, came into our city and liberated it from Logan's rule. At that time, the hero promised to reopen the Academy. This woman became known as the Hero of Brightwall, and now stands as our Queen. She has, without fail, helped Albion's center of learning, keeping her promise and reopening it as a free center of learning, increasing funding time and time again, and finding numerous rare books to fill our shelves. She will be arriving later this week, but for now, we'd like to honor her with our newest statue. Gentlemen!" Several men pulled the heavy cloth over the new statue of the Queen, who stood with her sword in one hand and a pistol in the other, wearing full warrior armor. She was smiling and looking out over the city. The crowded streets of Brightwall where filled with cheers at the sight of the statue of their beloved ruler of Albion.

"Now, as part of the celebration, there will, of course, be many more shops open for you to buy and sell goods, and the Ye Quill and Quandary is offering a deal that every night stayed at the inn gets free drinks the following night, as well as concerts all week and the world famous chicken race track, but the most exciting part is that in the entire east wing of the Academy, there are books which you can barter for and take home. And even better, we're opening up our rarest collection of books and allowing folks to borrow them for three days, when one couldn't even leave the library with them before! The books are first come first serve, so get in line now, and get ready, for the _Academia Extravaganza!"_Samuel bellowed, finishing his opening speech to the festival. The people of the city cheer thunderously at this request, some hurrying to the shops and inn, some to the world famous chicken races, but most stayed right in front of the library, waiting for a chance to borrow and buy some of the famous works of Albion literature. Samuel was smiling proudly at the sight. Ben Finn, who was watching from a distance, approached and tapped him on his shoulder.

"Why, Major Finn! Isn't this just wonderful?" Samuel said happily.

"I'll say! It's even better than last year's. And best of all, the Queen raised our soldiers pay even more this year."

"Indeed. Now, I'm assume you've increased the guard around town. People get vicious when they get alcohol in the system or see rare books on the line, and they get even worse when they experience both."

"Don't worry. I've taken care of it. Every guard in Mistpeak valley is standing ready around town. I've also hired a little extra help, to keep things stable." A large man with a cigar, bright red jacket, and thick mustache smiled as he walked up to the small librarian.

"Saker?!" Samuel said, drawing back fearfully.

"Aye, Samuel. It's been almost three years since the Queen defeated me and my mercenaries and forced us to make peace with our allies to the north. We've turned over a new leaf. We already defend caravans that go between Brightwall and the Dweller Camp, and when Ben Finn asked us to help keep watch on the city, why, we were overjoyed. I hope that we can finally prove that we can be trusted to the people of Brightwall." Saker took his cigar out in one hand then held out the other. Samuel watched it cautiously, reaching out slowly and shaking it. He was suddenly much more personable.

"Welcome, friend of Brightwall!" Samuel said. Saker smiled even wider then put his cigar back in his mouth and turned to Ben Finn.

"Major Finn, where do you want my men?"

"Come with me, and I'll show you what you all will be covering." Ben Finn walked Saker through the town, showing him the different posts around the village. He was explaining a guard station near an evil looking portal to another world when he noticed a line of carriages in the distance. Ben Finn told Saker to wait and rushed to the front of the town, pointing his soldiers to various places.

"The Queen is arriving! I can't believe she came this quickly. Stand to attention. Ready yourselves!" The guards of the town stood in two lines, saluting. Ben Finn stood at the front of one line, waiting as the lead carriage stopped at the gate.

"All hail her majesty, the Queen of Albion!" The people in Brightwall had noticed the commotion of the guards and were gathered around them. They cheered as Finn declared the arrival of the Queen. However, it was not the Queen who stepped out of the carriage.

"Hello my friends! You would do all of this for me? I'm honored, so very, very honored!" Reaver yelled, hands out wide as he stepped from the carriage. The cheering turned to booing instantly.

"Oh, come now. I own that blasted academy. Without me, you'd be nothing!" He said forcefully. Everyone quieted down, except for one woman who ran to the front of the crowd and started cheering.

"Reaver rules! Reaver rocks! I love Reaver's smelly socks!" She chanted excitedly.

"Oh, dear goodness, not that woman again."

"Reaver," Ben said coldly, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to make good on a promise. Now, I must get to the Academy. Excuse me Mister Finn!" Reaver tapped his cane on the steps several times then started up the paths of Brightwall. A dark-skinned man wearing rather intricate gold relics on his body and marked with bright glowing blue lines, stepped from the carriage and followed Reaver up the hill. Ben Finn stayed with the two, remaining just in earshot. All of the people, save Reaver's crazed fan, stood silently, watching the two.

"Reaver…" the man said, his arms folded. Ben Finn had seen the intricate lines on the man's body somewhere else, but he couldn't recall where.

"Yes my dear comrade Garth?"

"I thought you knew I didn't like crowds."

"I do indeed know, but I'd forgotten about this bloody festival. It's quite irritating when people who should be studying seem to spend all their time drinking and celebrating, but that's college life for you. I should know; I started that tradition some hundreds of years ago. Though, they don't know that." He said with an insidious smile and wink. Garth looked at him coldly then turned around.

"Disperse," for a moment, nobody moved, "Now!" Garth yelled, summoning a fireball spell and creating an explosion around him. The people ran screaming from the two men, as the guards ran forward and pointed their weapons. Saker was there as well, holding a flaming bottle.

"A will-user! Run for your life!" Ben Finn heard people scream as he drew his rifle.

"That's against the law, transgressor!" One soldier said.

"We've been hired to make sure the laws are followed, and we'll do just that! I don't care what kind of magic you're wielding!" Saker threatened.

"Now, boys, hold on, this is a simple misunderstanding, right Garth…Garth…?" Reaver, who'd stepped in front of the man, turned around to find him already high up the path, headed toward the academy. Reaver turned with a smile and nodded.

"Unfortunately, it seems that we'll have to do this most important business of upholding your precious laws later. Excuse me!" Reaver walked, somewhat hurriedly, but still with the devious air that made him so hated, after the man. Ben Finn brought his hand up and dropped his weapon.

"Return to your duties. I'll keep an eye on Reaver and his friend. And get the spirits of the people back up! This is a celebration!" A soldier nodded and took a lute from where a fleeing man had left it and started playing a tune. People began cheering as the celebration slowly came back to life. Ben Finn ran quickly after the two as they enter the Academy.

* * *

Garth's patience was wearing thin. If Reaver didn't come up with something quickly, he might kill the man just for being so damned annoying. As he entered the academy and found himself surrounded by another crowd, he became even more enraged.

"If you don't show me some evidence of my old home quickly, I'm going to burn your face off!"

"Oh, Garth, how could you even think of destroy these beautiful looks with you fireballs? It's just a little further, I promise!"

"Disperse!" Garth yelled, ignoring the Hero of Skill. Garth thought about that fact for a moment. He hadn't considered the fact Reaver was a Hero as well during the entire time he'd been in Albion. This man had immense ability with a gun, and could hit a target from almost any distance. He assumed his enemy's accuracy had not decreased during his time as a relatively respectable businessman. A man he'd seen before at the castle stepped forward as most of the people turned and backed away from him.

"By the blessed quill pen! A full blooded Samarkander! And a Will-user at that! To see you here in Albion, why, it's just amazing! My name is Samuel. To what do we owe the honor?"

"This man!" Garth pointed at Reaver, who smiled broadly at the old man. Samuel, in turn, drew back in disgust, "He claims that this was my former tower." Samuel humbled himself further in response, and was almost kissing the man's feet by the end of it.

"The Hero of Will and savior of our world, Garth, has come to our dear humble academy! What a true honor! Welcome, welcome home!" Samuel said. Garth looked at him coldly and uncaringly, his arms still folded.

"Where are my things?"

"Right this way, Garth!" Samuel hurriedly showed the Samkander into the next room, the people still in awe. Garth turned to them angrily.

"The people of Brightwall seem to have trouble taking orders…" Garth grunted as he summoned a balvarine shadow, a dark representation of a balvarine, yet completely under Garth's command. The people ran as the monster jumped into the crowd, howling and swiping at them with ethereal claws. Reaver watched with a laugh then turned to Garth.

"You really don't like crowds, do you?"

"Your hat is terrible. I keep expecting smoke to start billowing from the top."

"Oh, what's this, losing focus on the mission? You have time to comment on my clothing now?" Reaver said, laughing harder.

"I…it was a reflex. It looks awful," Garth said, his face still a cold frown. Garth didn't know why he'd insulted Reaver. It wasn't out of spite, though he still spited the man deeply. Perhaps his hate was weakening. Images burst into his mind as the once brown tall grass was turned black, and darkness spilled onto the ground. It drove through the cities and villages, through everything he knew until finally, he saw it taking control of his brother. He shook the thought away, hatred again filling his every breath.

"I appreciate it, Garth…" Reaver said suggestively, following Samuel and walking in a fashion which only intensified the hate. Garth brought up the rear, almost growling at Reaver.

"Ahem, here you are!" Samuel said, slightly shaking as he entered the room. Reaver stepped into the room, smiling mischievously in the corner. _"He's waiting for something,"_ Garth thought as he entered the room. Garth walked past the armored figures, which were no doubt his, and began to look through the books in the room. After a few moments, his hand fell to his side.

"This isn't even a quarter of my library. And this isn't my tower. What is this Reaver?" The man slyly held out his hand as he spoke.

"My friend, look around. Brightwall academy may not be the tall spiraling monster that you no doubt missed so much. But these are definitely your things, are they not? The old crumbling sin of architecture is decrepit and abandoned. This is the new Brightwood tower. Or all that's left of it."

"There was more. A bed, which I warned of sleeping in, several hundred volumes on enchantments. Several volumes of my own work…one of which you stole from me!"

"One of which? Ha, that's a laugh," Garth leaned over to Reaver with a fireball forming in his hand, "I mean…I've put them in a safe place…for safe keeping."

"Where?!" Garth said, grabbing Reaver's shirt and holding the fireball close to his face. The man simply turned to look at a door in the room, which was closed with some old gears and bolts, obviously Hero technology.

"…the…the reliquary? What…what do you know about the reliquary? Only the Queen knows how to enter the reliquary!" Samuel said, drawn back.

"Come now Samuel...I am, much to everyone's disbelief, a Hero. And I can do things Heroes can, though I much dislike doing so," Garth released Reaver's collar and allowed the man to stand up straight. He walked over to the door and stood in front of it.

"Watch in awe as I do the impossible," Reaver took his cane and tapped it on the door, sending the protruding gears to work and finally opening it to reveal a dusty and dark cavern.

"Bless the great books of old! Can it be?"

"Come now Garth, Sparrow raided your old home as he did mine, and the old Temple of Light. All the volumes and collections, as well as any precious items we may have lost, are in here." Reaver said this with a sigh. Garth assumed he'd grown bored of being threatened, but didn't care. Reaver had a lot of ground to make up to earn his life back.

"Here?" Garth walked through the open door, arms folded, and gazing only at the staircase before him.

"Yes, that would be the way. Now Samuel, be good while we're gone. I hear you've got some rare books to give away. Tatty-bye!" Reaver called back, waving at the man. Samuel looked around then shut the door quickly, trying to maintain the supposed secret of the reliquary. But if Reaver knew, it was only a matter of time before the whole world knew.

"I suppose there is nothing I can do about that now…" Samuel said, rubbing his head. Saul, his most loyal book shelfer, ran to him, panting hard.

"I can't do it sir. Pete's getting overwhelmed with sales of the modern books, and I'm trying to cover both rare books and checkouts. But I can't do it."

"Don't worry Saul; I'll take over the rare books. You just worry about other checkouts," Samuel said, moving quickly to his position and leaving the reliquary to the real heroes…at least Garth, anyway.


	3. Part 1: Chapter 3: The Reliquary

Chapter 3

The Reliquary

Ben Finn watched from behind one of the suits of armor as the heroes entered the reliquary. Samuel glanced around the room quickly, then closed the door behind them. He remained silent as Samuel hurried with Saul into the other rooms of the academy leaving Garth's old books and armor as well as the entrance without a watchful eye over them. Ben moved quickly from behind the armor and tried to open the door, struggling with its complex locking system.

"Damn! Reaver just tapped the thing and it opened. How am I supposed to get this open…" Ben Finn stared at a central circle on it which appeared to be a key hole, "Maybe there is some sort of key around here. Something I might use to follow them," he looked at the four suits of armor carefully but found nothing. He looked around the library, seeing if anything caught his eye. Nothing stood out, until he reached a strange book which read, _Seals of the Guild of Heroes._

"Hmm…isn't this what the Queen uses? A Guild Seal…maybe that's how she opened the door! But where do I get a Guild Seal?" Suddenly Ben Finn heard a guard yelling at Samuel.

"Have you seen Major Finn? We've got a fight in the main yard that Saker's trying to deal with, as well as a woman with dreadlocks demanding to see the Major. Apparently, she's that street rat who was elected to be mayor of Bowerstone."

"Mayor of Bowerstone…you mean Page? Did you just call Page a street rat? What's wrong with you soldier? Page was, and still is, one of the most important members of the Queens court!"

"Begging your pardon sir! I meant no disrespect!" The soldier saluted. Ben rushed out and got between the two before Samuel could hit him with a book, as he was about to do.

"Samuel, I'll take care of this chap. You've got those rare books to deal with anyway, don't you?"

"I suppose…" Samuel lowered his hardcover weapon and went into the rare books room, where people had crowded in a long line to get the books. Ben Finn turned back to his guard, not allowing the insult to Page anger him.

"Quickly, get some men on the gates. I'll deal with Page," Ben said, opening the Academy doors and hurrying out.

"Yes sir!" The soldier said as they ran, turning off to down an alleyway were several men were on break.

"Page is in a huff, and the old Hero of Will is in Brightwall. I'd say there's a high chance Reaver is behind all of this," Ben muttered to himself.

* * *

"Hmm..Many of these old volumes are mine. A large portion of these are written in Samarkander. Some of these are my tomes. Others are just histories of the various peoples of the world," Garth said thoughtfully. He'd again lost focus on his hatred for Reaver, and was more interested in his works than the immortal. However, as soon as he turned around and saw the man, he felt that hate swelling up in him again.

"Reaver, where are my other things?"

"Ah, yes, this way," Reaver said, suddenly, as if waking from a dream. He tapped his cane on the ground, and then continued down a path which led to a large staircase overlooking a great cavern. The stairs were lit by a large amount of candles which Garth assumed to be magic. Garth watched the man carefully as he waltzed through the reliquary, humming tunelessly to himself as he considered the situation. Reaver had been staring at him. He hated the blank looks of wonder and amazement most gave him at the site of his ethnicity and Will lines, but Reaver's stare was even more sinister. Garth didn't know what Reaver was scheming, but he was sure it couldn't be good.

"Here we are! Welcome to the dank and dark arenas of the reliquary. Here, Sparrow fought hollow men for sport and tests of strength. The old brute," Reaver said with a growl, standing outside of the arena. Wisps of the undead monsters flew into the ground and, in response, long dead, lightly clothed skeletons burst from the ground. The hollow men started to shamble slowly toward Reaver, who sighed and held his cane up.

"Defenses down, my dear friends." Reaver tapped it on a side of the arena and the hollow men collapsed into a ragged assortment of cloth and bones, the wisps sent away by some unknown magic. Garth simply stood behind the man, waiting as he started through the arena.

"Are you coming old chum?"

"How are you doing that?"

"Why Garth, you expect a man like me, who holds his cards so close to his chest, to give an answer to that question? This has given me one advantage over you my glowing blue friend. Surely the most dedicated Samuel quickly closed the reliquary behind us, leaving us trapped in this cavern with one way out. My way!" Reaver said with a smile. Garth felt anger rising in him. Reaver had led him into a trap, and he'd fallen for it. But surely Sparrow wasn't so stupid.

"This reliquary has one entrance and exit?"

"Oh, now there you go trying to be factual."

"Reaver, you're a bloody mess." Garth said massaging his temples. He had to stifle a laugh. Reaver was an evil man, with a great number of dark schemes and tricks. But he was also an endearing man, which made him very hard to hate in his presence.

"Why, Garth! You've complimented me twice in one day. Strange words for someone so bent on revenge," Garth regained his composure and clung to the last shreds of loathing he could find and pointed a flaming hand at Reaver.

"Reaver, where are my other things? And why haven't you tried to prove once that you destroyed Samarkand? Are you trying to keep me unfocused on the issue?" Garth said. He felt the hate again at the thought of his home in dark flames. It gave him focus on his task. As terrible as it sounded, he liked to be able to hate again.

"Actually yes. Despite one so impartial and reasoned, you seem to have ignored your very creed. If I distract you, let your intense hate toward me lessen, then you might be able to look objectively at the situation. I can't prove anything to you if you're ready to burn me for a misaimed sneeze now can I?" Reaver said, deviously. Garth was about to hit him with all the power he had then stopped himself. He lowered his hand and unclenched his teeth. He straightened and folded his arms. His hatred for the man was being replaced by a hatred for himself. He knew that everything Reaver had said was right. He'd lost his objectivity. He'd lost his ability to reason with situations. He felt as though he'd been stabbed and all the hot air that was his anger was coming out. Suddenly, with a cry of rage he summoned an earth spell (a new spell he'd learned in Samarkand) and sent a broken column crashing down into the depths of the cavern, rumbling the foundation of the reliquary. Reaver watched, and then looked back at Garth, his face showing the slightest hint of anxiety in his famous devious smile.

"Ahem…everything alright, Garth?" Reaver's voice was a little shaken, and almost sounded worried. That show of power, in which Garth let out his anger, had actually scared Reaver. In fact, this may have been the most scared the immortal had been in a century.

"Yes, now let's go. Lead the way," Garth said, folding his arms again and looking down at the ground, breathing deeply.

"Yes…indeed," Reaver turned around and started away, with Garth close on his tail.

* * *

"Alright, so what did she do to you?" Ben said, almost uncaringly tapping his foot. Page was standing behind him, and had demanded that he deal with the fight before she would speak to him. He waited as the Brightwall citizen scowled angrily at the Auroran before him.

"Well," the man said, hawking deeply and spitting onto the dirt street, "My home in the Old Quarter was destroyed in the Revolution. I didn't complain or raise fuss 'bout that when it happened, or when that part of the city was turned into a museum. When the queen raised taxes to help stop the Crawler, I didn't raise a ruckus either. I took the opportunity to better myself, and moved to the country for some good character growth and peace and quiet!" Ben sighed and rubbed his head. This man had obviously taken his new country living a little too seriously.

"I don't care why you moved out here. I do care, however, why you hit the Auroran."

"This foreigner came up to the village with the intention of starting a fight! It wasn't my fault we had a scrap! Frankly, I think we should have colonized the land and made them work, instead of openin' our arms and welcomin' them in our cities. Bunch of sand covered rats is what they are," The citizen said. He grabbed a small amount of dried tobacco from a pocket and shoved it in his mouth, chewing it hard. Ben assumed he was also drinker based on his speech.

"I am shocked that this man would be allowed to speak to me in such a manner. I am a peaceful, law-biding Auroran with the intention of enjoying the _Academia Extravaganza, _as well as to donate a large portion of the world famous Auroran library to the Academy. I am not a foreigner. I am an Alban, just like all of you. The Queen understood this when she built the desert fort. And surely you understand it, Mr. Finn. Our leader, Kalin sends her greetings to you. And you as well Page." Ben Finn sighed as the Brightwall citizen got riled up again.

"Look, even the way she talks is suspicious! I don't know why the Queen doesn't do something about these foreigners. First a strange, glowing man from Aurora blasts everyone with a fireball, then this girl here is trying to be miss elitist with me." The man spat what appeared to be another large amount of tobacco out onto the ground. Ben Finn grabbed the man's shoulder and started walking him into the pub.

"Alright, tell you what. You leave the foreigners to us, and just enjoy yourself. We'll keep a careful eye on all these people, okay. Now sit down, let me buy you a drink. Barman! Get this man whatever he wants, on the house."

"Why thank ya mister…you'd better put an eye on those Dwellers up from Mistpeak too. Their kind is bad news. Mark my words!"

"Don't worry. We'll take care of it." Ben Finn sighed at yet another racist comment and left the pub quickly. He went to the Auroran, begging for forgiveness.

"My lady, I am so sorry. I know it's a poor excuse, but many of the people of the Bowerstone Old Quarter who have moved here find country life difficult, and some embrace it too easily. The point is, many struggle to really be at ease here. I hope this hasn't ruined the festival for you."

"Oh, don't worry; as long as he is not still going to try to hit me, I don't care. Bigotry is better answered with defiance than violence anyway," the Auroran said, showing a truly educated side of Albion's people. As Ben Finn tried to start away, the Auroran grabbed his arm.

"I would, however, agree that the Samarkander wielding magic is of great concern to Auroran and Brightwallers alike. I believe he may have ruined the festival more than any tobacco chewing country hick," she said. The woman bowed and went toward a market stand which was selling rugs, possibly to pursue their Auroran offers. Ben Finn rubbed his head and looked back to Page.

"Welcome to _Academia Extravaganza_…" He said with a shrug. Page put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault. However, someone is to blame, and that person is in this village. Where is Reaver?"

"He's deep within Brightwall Academy. I can't get to him. He's behind some secret door,"

"Hmm…is he coming back out of that door?"

"…I don't know. I assume he can't stay down there forever, but…"

"Good, tell your men to stay on guard for if he comes out. When he does, we'll get him and his mage friend. Until then, let's relax a little. Becoming mayor was hard work, especially in a city which contains Reaver's factories," Page said, letting out a deep breath. They started toward the pub, but soon found there was no room to even stand, much less have a nice conversation. Ben Finn took a few drinks and walked Page back to his home, which was a small house next to the chicken racetrack.

"So, how come you don't live in the barracks? I thought all seasoned soldiers lived like that."

"Well, one of the benefits to being an officer is a house. I've gotten used to the soft beds and hot meals." He said with a laugh.

"Hmm…"

"What?"

"When we were out in near Blackhorn, and you were riding to save the town, you had this look on your face. Honestly, I thought you were truly a hero when I saw you. That look just flashed by…" She said, suggestively reaching out her hand. Ben didn't move as she took his hand in hers.

"…Ahem…when you…you saw that flash…you…"

"Did this?" Page said, reaching forward and kissing the man. He slipped deeper and deeper into the kiss, until a gunshot broke them apart.

"Ah! What was that?" Page jumped up and drew her pistol. Ben grabbed her arm and pointed to the chicken race outside, then looked back to the woman.

"There are some…detriments to living so close, but I always get a good view," Ben said beaming. Page smiled back, then looked out and watched the race. _"Alright Ben, you got a chance. Don't mess this up,"_Ben Finn thought, slicking his hair back. He noticed the sun was setting and had an idea.

"Page, have you ever been to…Brightwall bridge? It's the most romantic place we have in town."

"Yes, I could not have come into the city without it. But I would love to go there with you…" Page said, allowing Ben to take her hand. They started out of the house, completely forgetting about their shared hate for Reaver.

* * *

"And, one more turn, here…and an obstructive group of hollow men which I can shut down as such," Reaver turned and tapped his cane on the wall once again. The hollow men collapsed into a mess of bones. Garth watched him as he held his walking stick and finally made the connection.

"What's so special about your cane?"

"I don't know. What do _you_ think is so special about it?" Reaver said suggestively, trying to start a guessing game. "_Likely as a distraction against his boredom,_" Garth thought, _"Adventuring must've seemed dull to the man after two hundred years of life."_

"It must be legendary."

"Oh, so close, yet so far…" He said, walking down another flight of stairs into a small hallway to the far side of the large reliquary caverns which amazed Garth. There, a skeleton of a small man was strewn out with a notebook. Garth stopped to read the man's notes, but Reaver tapped him gently with his walking stick and pointed forward.

"Everything of value this man had, or might have had is gone. Let the dead rest," Reaver said, continuing forward. Garth stood up and followed him, trying now to be as neutral as possible.

"Since when are you concerned with the dead resting?" Garth said in perfect monotone.

"Oh come now Garth! Even I am not that low…well, there was that one time with Marcus…anyway, the dear Queen does not hold my commitment to the slogan: rest in peace. She raids this place regularly for money and treasures, and cleaned out that man long ago."

"Hmm…" Garth said as the two heroes turned another corner and reached yet another of the vast, open caverns which the mage struggled to comprehend. "_How could such large tunnels exist like this?"_the Samarkander thought.

"This was originally a Hall of Heroes, long ago. It was abandoned when Sparrow found it, and he added a few wings to it. A lot of the paths you see here have existed since Scythe and Nostro founded the Hero's Guild." Reaver explained, to which Garth wondered if the man had gained the ability to read minds.

"Why was this created? Why did Sparrow put all of our things into this place? What purpose does this place hold?"

"Whether you believe it or not, Sparrow was a vain man. This was originally a place for him to hide his things. He wanted only his hero daughter to inherit his possessions. His common son Logan was not so deserving of these treasures."

"I see. And…"

"And…it has also served as a tomb for an old friend of ours…" Reaver crossed over an old bridge and stood before a door. He tapped his cane a few times, but the door didn't respond.

"Oh, right, this needs a key…" Reaver said, pulling out a comically large key-ring and unlocking the door. Inside were two large stone sarcophagi. The ceiling above them was open to the outside. The moonlit stone tombs had an eerie feel as Garth approached them slowly, touching the first one and wiping away the dust to read the inscription.

"Kieran…beloved husband of…" Garth froze, then held his proper monotone, "Hammer, Hero of Strength. That means that this…" the Mage walked over to the second tomb, and read its inscription.

"Sister Hannah of the Temple of Light…Mother Superior of the Warrior Monks of Snowspire Temple." Garth said, losing his monotone and closing his eyes at the sight of a former friend's grave, the Hammer he had seen so often slung across her back resting at the end of her tomb.


	4. Part 1: Chapter 4: Rare Books

Chapter 4

Rare Books

"Reaver…" Garth said, rising from the tomb, "What is this…" he asked, pointing to a long robe hanging above the tombs. Reaver simply smiled and turned around, heading toward the door.

"It's Hammer's warrior monk robe. It's her treasure. Her tombs defend it. These robes answer to a person who is absolutely good. Not something very appealing to me, now is it?" Reaver asked leaving Garth in the burial ground of the Hero of Strength. Garth wasn't really shocked that she was dead, had she been alive, he would have heard about it at some point. Seeing Sparrow's daughter as queen meant a similar fate for the Hero of Bowerstone, but somehow, that didn't visibly affect him like seeing Hammer's tomb.

"Would you like to see your treasure?" Reaver asked, the sound of boredom developing in his tone.

"Yes…" Garth said, following Reaver out of the tomb. Reaver closed its doors then turned to Garth.

"Actually, this reminds me of something I want to ask you. How are you still alive? I was rid of Sparrow about ten years ago, or was it 20 now? I always lose track. Anyway, Sparrow was king for fifty years before that. This would mean you're about…one hundred and ten years old."

"How do you know how old I am?"

"Why, Garth, have you lost your hearing too? I just did the math…"

"How did you know how old I was when we defeated Lucien?"

"Come now Garth, I can't give away all my secrets…but if you answer my question, I'll answer yours."

"I am a child of Samarkand, our average age is one hundred and twenty. As a Hero, and a Will user at that, I have been granted a life half again as long. In addition, I assumed that defeating some members of the shadow court extended my life further, but you are about to deny that claim, so I suppose that didn't have an effect."

"Do you know any spells or tricks that might extend one's life, hmm?"

"No, death is inevitable. Magic can't create years…at least not any magic I would use," Garth said, knowing exactly where Reaver was going.

"Pity…well I stole your diary in Samarkand and have read through it extensively, so this is how I know your age. And about your blindness in your right eye. And your mother's bout with alcoholism." Reaver said deceitfully. Garth controlled his anger and remained, or at least attempted to remain, neutral as he followed Reaver to yet another door, this one with a large key as well.

"This is where Sparrow hid all of the larger items he stole from your tower." Reaver unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a long hallway filled with antiques and books. The walls were lit by dim red torches which gave the hall dark red glow. The evil bed he'd been trying to destroy was sitting to the side of the hall, with obvious signs it had been slept in. Behind it was a pile of some old technology of the ancient heroes. He looked around the room. Most was junk, either Old Kingdom tools or weapons supposedly with the ability to increase one's magical abilities. Garth continued until he found a mostly empty shelf with only a few journals. These journals looked familiar, and he opened one and found his own handwriting.

"Reaver!"

"I know, I know, don't get your Will lines in a knot…I stole them when I escaped Samarkand. It wasn't kind and I am so sincerely sorry. But I think you may find that gauntlet there of more interest," Garth turned around and saw the gauntlet of the Spire, his most terrible invention. The gauntlet was based on one of the tools used by the Guards of the spire to punish the prisoners and guards with shocks. Garth had unlocked the gauntlets full ability, allowing it to shock anyone, not just those wearing one of the terrible collars. It couldn't be used without giving a short shock to oneself, however, and was an evil tool. And Sparrow had it. Worse…Reaver knew about it.

"Alright…now that we've had a tearful reunion with your things, I believe it's time we talked."

"I suppose it is…" Garth grabbed a bag which he recognized as his old satchel. He snatched the gauntlet from its dais and dropped it into the satchel. He grabbed his writings and dropped them into the bag also. He threw it over his shoulder and left the room allowing Reaver to lock it.

"Now Garth…"

"Can we not walk and talk? I must see the room of the last hero."

"No, you don't need to. There is nothing there for you."

"Oh, I disagree. Remember I could still crush you with my earth spells…" Garth said, maintaining his famous neutrality. He felt like he'd reclaimed himself and his moral ambiguity with the gauntlet, though he still wanted to kill Reaver.

"Alright, fine, here…" Reaver walked, like a pouting child through a hallway to his room. He unlocked the door to reveal an empty hallway with a sickly yellow glow around it. At the end of it was a simple, unadorned pedestal with a mirror on it.

"Happy?"

"No," Garth said, dropping the satchel at the door and walking over to the pedestal which had the mirror on it. A long dead rose was next to it, and the mirror had a blood stain on it.

"You'd better be careful with that mirror Garth. It was a gift from the Shadow Court on my hundredth birthday. It reveals one's deepest fears." Garth grabbed the mirror and gazed into it, seeing nothing but his own reflection. However, as he stared the image started to shift, more and more into a monster which Garth recognized. It had four eyes and sharp teeth, as well as a spiked head. The monster, known in Samarkand as the Life Eater, stared at the Mage for a moment before its face turned into a smile.

"Hello, my old friend. I think it's time you joined your brothers, don't you!" The monster opened its mouth and started to pull Garth into the mirror. He tried to look away, but the force of the darkness was consuming the Samarkander's ability to resist. Suddenly, the mirror was smacked from his hand and slid across the floor. Reaver was standing in front of him, smiling darkly.

"I warned you didn't I? Now, let's see if I finally broke that unholy viewing glass…" Reaver reached down and picked up his treasure slowly, and glanced in it momentarily before dropping it again, "As expected, still intact, damn it all." Reaver pinched its handle like it was a dirty rag and dropped in back in place. Garth stood and noticed Reaver's reflection in the mirror, but he was aging rapidly. He grew older and older until his skeleton broke into dust and spilled off the image. Reaver turned around at that moment and looked at Garth, a small bit of annoyance in his face.

"I think we've spent enough time with that Skorm mirror, don't you?"

"Yes…" Garth took a deep breath and tried to clear his thoughts of the monster. He was surprised, actually, that he didn't see Lucien in the mirror, or any of the terrible devices of torture used on him in the Spire to discover the cause of Will. Not that he was disturbed by that anymore. He'd seen children torn to pieces by the Life-eater. Nothing really made him distraught anymore.

"Well," Reaver said, locking his hall quickly, "Seeing our worst fears in the mirror gave me the insight I needed to solve this problem. As it turns out, I was in fact right, the Darkness which appeared in Samarkand and the Shadow Court are two very different things. In fact the Darkness which you saw in that mirror was the same Darkness that assaulted Albion not more than a year ago. And I know of a certain seer who could prove my point. If you follow that path, and dive into the pool when you reach that gate, and follow a thin path over the last cavern, you should find a certain music box which should remind you of something."

"Sparrow's…music box?"

"Yes, and you should be able to summon Theresa with it. Also, I believe there is a Cullis Gate, which you should be able to use to get to the front of the academy with. Good luck!" Reaver said, waving Garth away.

"You're not coming?"

"And see that old witch again? I don't think so. Besides, jumping in a pool in this suit…why, it would be criminal!" Reaver let out a laugh as he walked out, leaving Garth standing alone in the Reliquary.

"Even if he didn't release the Life-eater on Samarkand, I'm probably going to kill him anyway," Garth said, moving deeper in the caverns.

* * *

"Ben…this is quite a romantic spot in twilight…" Page said, looking longingly over the deep gorge of the Mistpeak River. Ben Finn was leaning on the railing of the bridge as well, staring at Page, _"Alright Finn. This is your chance to score. You've got this…" _Ben started to inch toward Page's hand when she suddenly turned around and rested her back against the railing, shaking her head.

"Ben…I'm…I'm just confused,"

"Go on…" Ben said, mimicking her and leaning his back on the bridge, still trying to inch over to her.

"I hate Reaver! I've always hated Reaver…yet…I'm just tired of hating him. I just want to work for the betterment of everyone in Bowerstone and be free of him."

"Oh…" Ben said, still very focused on Page's hand, "So you want him to go away and not bother you anymore, but you don't want to kill him. You just want him to disappear."

"Yes…that's it exactly." Just as Ben was about to touch her hand, she folded her arms and shook her head, sending the man into retreat.

"I don't know Ben…but this is a truly romantic place. Of course, you should know, you can't just take me to some bridge and expect me to love you."

"Why not? It works with everyone else in Albion," Ben muttered. Page turned to him.

"What?"

"Uh…maybe we should see if Reaver and his friend have left the Reliquary."

"Good idea…" Page said, walking past him. He sighed deeply and shook his head, _"Dammit. What is it going to take with this girl?"_

The two went through the now emptying town. The pub was overflowing and extremely loud, and most citizens of Brightwall where having parties in their homes now, leaving the streets nearly empty. However, the Academy was as full as ever. As the two pushed to the front area, they found someone unexpected.

"Reaver? What are you doing here?" Page demanded. Reaver was standing before the crowd of people at the front desk of the Academy. He had the same sly look on his face as always, and was halfheartedly following checkout procedure for a nervous looking citizen.

"So, you'd like to check out _Reading for Idiots,_huh? Well, while you fit the idiot bit, I'm not sure that you could handle reading a book of this level. Then again, I suppose it is a book for the illiterate, isn't it? Here you are!" Reaver stamped the book's back cover, completely missing the index card used to mark it properly. He threw the book at the woman who ran out of the room, only to be replaced by three more. Page pushed around people till she was at the checkout desk.

"Reaver!"

"Ah, my dearest Page, how do you do?"

"What are you doing?"

"Giving the overworked staff of this Academy a much needed break. Girod, myself and my crazed fan have taken over the duties of the workers here." Ben Finn pushed his way to desk and looked at Reaver.

"Where is the library staff now?" he asked.

"Why, in the breakroom of course! I told the dear headmaster of this fine academy to take as long as he needs," Reaver said, apathetically stamping a book's front cover and throwing it into the crowd. Ben shook his head and pointed at Reaver.

"Don't leave!"

"Oh, of course Mr. Finn. I wouldn't dream of ignoring the law. After all, it was so well enforced while I was running Bloodstone," Reaver said as Ben turned to Page.

"I'm going to go to the rare books and see if his crazed fan has done anything. See if you can find Samuel and the other librarians."

"Right…" Page said with a nod, heading down to the left wings of the academy. Ben Finn went to the right side and found Benjamina, holding back a stack of books about five high. She was perusing the crowd, holding out one book.

"_Dangerous things: Gunpowder_. Who thinks they're worthy?" She was still bouncing, her brown buns obviously becoming frizzled from the prospect of doing actual work. Ben Finn noticed two flowers in her hair, which would have made her look quite cute if she wasn't bat shit crazy.

"I would like to borrow that one!"

"What is Reaver's favorite color?"

"Um…black?"

"No! Wrong!" She said, pulling the book back.

"It's yellow!" One man yelled from the crowd. She pointed to him, stamped the book, and then threw it at him. Ben Finn pushed his way to the front and went to the woman.

"Benjamina, you're giving out rare books huh?"

"Yep. Reaver asked me to do it, and make sure that a glowing man from Samarkand named Garth never sees his autobiography. And I'd do anything for Reaver," Benjamina turned to the crowd and started to do a famous Reaver obsession chant, "Reaver's cool, I'm in love, I want Reaver's sweaty glove!"

"I see. Well, can I have the book?"

"No! Reaver told me not to let anyone have _Reaver on Reaver_! Now, who wants _Famous Kings: Markus Ivy_? All you have to do is name Reaver's favorite food!"

"Benjamina," Ben started, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a glove, which was no doubt Reaver's, "why don't you take a break and let me have the autobiography. I'll give out the rest of the rare books. That is, if you want a glove marked with Reaver's perspiration." Benjamina turned slowly, sweating profusely herself as she saw the glove.

"Re…re…re…"

"Yes, Reaver's glove…and you can…" Benjamina snatched the glove out of his hand before he could act, leaving him with the crowd and the autobiography.

"Hmmm…" Ben looked at the crowd and grabbed the last three books.

"Here, you take the _Famous Kings._You take _Dangerous Things: Ladders. _You take _Famous Killers: Xavier Smedly,_and you take _Reaver on…_whoa, whoa, no! I need that one! That's all the rare books. Everyone else! You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." The crowd booed the man then slowly leaked out of the room.

"What is in these pages that Reaver doesn't want his friend to see?" Ben Finn opened the book and a three page fold fell out of it.

"…I suppose I wouldn't want anyone to see that…Frankly, I could have done without it either…" Ben rubbed his eyes, folded the picture back into the book, and started out of the room, looking to find Page.


	5. Part 1: Chapter 5: Reaver

Chapter 5

Reaver's Mountain

Reaver sighed as another fool demanded a book that was vastly past the reader's skill level.

"Why are you deserving of _Vigilantes of the Eastern Breeze_?" Reaver asked uncaringly. The man hocked loudly and spat into a vase, which Reaver was sure was not for expectoration.

"Well, I'm a respectful citizen of Brightwall Village, and I need to do my part to defend my town from those dirty foreigners!" The man pulled up his tight yellow pants up high on his waist. Reaver assumed that was all the explanation he was going to get.

"…I'm glad to see you are so willing. Return it in a week. Sooner if possible," Reaver said, stamping the book and watching the man spit into the vase again as he left. Reaver simply shook his head.

"I suppose I'd better warn Samuel about the urn before it begins to smell…" Reaver brought his cane onto the table and tapped it to get attention. The people were still crowded around the table and ignoring him. He sighed and drew a pistol. He fired it into the door, sending most people to the ground.

"Ahem…I think the Academy will be closing early today. Go home!" The people started to shuffle towards the door. Reaver pointed the pistol into the crowd, ready to pick off someone as an example, when a glowing Guild Seal image appeared in front of the desk and Garth appeared. The people in the front library turned and ran upon the site the irritable mage. Reaver almost jumped for joy upon seeing the Hero of Will.

"Oh, thank goodness. You couldn't imagine how boring this was…" Page returned from the west wing with Samuel and his other librarians, who had ropes and rags with them.

"I found them tied up! Reaver said he was giving them a break," Page yelled. Ben returned from the east wing, smiling calmly at the group.

"Oh come now, we've taken care of all sales and checkouts. I can see you've enjoyed your time away," Reaver said suggestively. Garth grabbed his shirt collar and pulled his partially over the desk.

"Sparrow's box is gone."

"Gone? Who took Sparrow's box?" Reaver demanded, waving his pistol through group.

"If you mean Sparrow's treasure, the Queen took it to Sabine to prove that she was a hero," Samuel said, still furious at the immortal. Reaver turned to him and cocked eyebrow.

"Sabine…oh…the wonderful people of Mistpeak. It seems we'll need to go north. Dear people of Brightwall, I'm sorry to say I have to leave. Come Garth, I must take you to the Dweller Camp, I would suggest packing warmer clothes."

"You've given me back my journal. You've earned yourself some time. But I'm not going to follow you around for weeks. You have three days to prove your innocence. I'm going to kill you on the third day." Garth said in a threatening monotone. Reaver simply smiled and leaned in close to Garth.

"What a dubious challenge. I accept." Reaver stood up and went to the door. He started to open it but Page jumped in front of him, and slammed it shut with her gun drawn.

"Oh no. I'm not letting you parade around like you own this place. You are going to pay Reaver!"

"No. His life is mine to take!" Garth interjected, using a force push spell to knock her aside. Ben drew his sword and ran at Garth, but he was sent to the ground with a similar spell.

"Reaver's life depends on this. We don't have time for either of you." Garth opened the door and started out, followed by Reaver.

"Too-da-lo!" Reaver said with a wave. He smiled at the prospect. Three days or more with Garth. His life as Chief Executive of Bowerstone Industrial was becoming dreadfully boring, and he was soon to start some other endeavor, but with Garth here, he was having fun. More fun than he'd had in years.

"Garth, my friend, allow me to prepare myself. I have a small cottage out in the country here."

"Hurry. I'll be at the town square," Garth said uncaringly, folding his arms and following a path away from the Academy. Reaver went to the home and using his cane knocked on the door. A thin woman with a child answered the door.

"Reaver, sir, I sent this month's rent when your collector made his rounds…"

"You've been evicted. Leave now."

"You can't just evict me at a moment's notice!"

"Oh, I can, and it's not even an evil act. Not that I care, of course," Reaver said with a laugh. He opened the door completely with his cane then pushed the woman and her child out. He slammed the door and went into the bedroom, looking through their closet.

"Ah-ha! Dweller clothing." Reaver took his hat and cane and set it to the side, and changed into the full dweller suit. It was a brown long coat over a red wool shirt along with slacks and high furry boots.

"Excellent. Now I won't freeze in that damned place. I only wish it came in yellow, or at least white." Reaver said with a sigh, grabbing his hat and cane and leaving the house. The woman was still standing outside the house with her child.

"Alright, I need a new tenant for my fine home. Ma'm you seem to be homeless. I'd like to offer you a deal. The rent is only two hundred gold a month."

"Two hundred gold? That's almost twice what we were paying earlier! And you're wearing my husband's clothes!"

"This is a limited time offer. First payment up front, of course," The woman sighed and shuffled around her pockets and found a gold bag with the correct amount in it.

"Thank you, and welcome to Reaver Industry's Cottages."

"Damn your black heart Reaver!" The woman muttered as Reaver left the house, walking proudly in his new uniform. He found Garth at the city square, looking at the statue in the center of the town.

"Ah, Sir Edward, the first of the Old Guard to return! What a hero…"

"Reaver, Hammer had a husband. Do you know if she…"

"She had one son. But she didn't want her son to be a monk, or hero for that matter, so she gave him to a poor family from some backwater town in east Albion with three children who obviously couldn't tell the difference in a fourth. Of course, as far as I heard, every child in that family save the youngest is dead."

"And this boy is Hammer's son?"

"I assume so, but I cannot promise you this. If I'm not mistaken, we've met him already." Reaver started toward Brightwall Bridge, followed by Garth.

"Why are you wearing those silly clothes?"

"It's the clothing of the people. It gets cold on those mountains Garth. Could you imagine the riots if this face was frozen off in that blasted tundra?"

"Oh I can. The cheering. _'Reaver's dead! What a day to celebrate!'_" Garth said, his face slipping into a smile. He resisted however, and returned to his non-judgmental blank frown he wore so often.

"You're no fun."

"Reaver! Garth!" They turned to see Samuel, Page, and Ben standing at the end of the bridge. Page was wearing a thick coat and a satchel on her back, and Ben had a soldiers backpack and winter uniform.

"Garth, you're a menace to society. I'm going with you to keep an eye on you," Ben said.

"Don't you have work to do in this town?"

"Saker and my men can handle it. Especially if neither of you is here." Ben Finn said. Page stepped forward, holding her pistol and a weapon which looked holy. Garth roughly recognized it as Avo's Lamentation from his studies.

"As long as you are still going to kill Reaver, I want to be around to see it. And I need to keep an eye on you. I've got to make sure you don't go back to Bowerstone."

"Of course. Assuming you don't get it my way, you are welcome to come. Shall we then?" Garth asked Reaver. The immortal smiled slyly and went across the bridge and started up a nearby mountain. Page followed him, with Ben and Garth behind them. Reaver looked back at his little caravan.

"It seems we are going on a journey. Let us begin our wonderful adventure!" Reaver declared.

* * *

Reaver couldn't see his hand in the terrible blizzard which had gripped the Mispeak summit. The snowy blasts of wind were like waves of the force push spell Reaver had become acquainted to in his time with Garth.

"Reaver! How much further?" Garth yelled. Reaver turned around and looked at the man. Behind him, Ben Finn was trying to pull Page forward, but the two were falling behind.

"It's up this curve. There's a rickety wooden bridge then a small lookout area. Then it's a straight shot to the Dweller Camp."

"And this Sabine…"

"He's is the chief of the Dwellers. The Queen left Mistpeak in his care. Why, if I had my way, this would all be a lumber factory, with carts and transports of all forms. But I digress, if Samuel is to be trusted, he has the music box and our access to the witch!" Reaver and Garth yelled back and forth as Ben Finn and Page caught up.

"This is the worst storm I've seen on Mistpeak in years!" Ben yelled, his hand held to his face as he leaned against the howling wind. Page tripped and fell into a pile of snow. The extreme whiteness of the terrain was seriously challenging their directional abilities, even in those so advanced as Reaver's.

"We have to stop Reaver! This storm is making it hard to see you!"

"No! We have to continue…" Reaver stopped yelling and turned around, staring blankly into the wind. He swore he heard something.

"What is it Reaver?" Page yelled. Garth turned around as well, and both stared into the thick blizzard, searching for the source of the sound.

"A noise…" Reaver uttered, not to anyone but himself. Page tried to stand up and drew her pistol but fell into a snow drift. Ben pushed through the snow to her side, and stood over her with his rifle.

"Reaver…is that…" Garth started, but was interrupted by a howl. Reaver immediately relaxed.

"Wolves. This I can handle." Reaver drew his pistol and pointed it into the whiteness of the blizzard, "Garth…would you be so kind as to cast an ice storm spell to give me a clear shot?" He yelled.

"My spell creates ice storms. However, I have another idea. I'll just try to gain control of the blizzard!" Garth yelled raising his hands in the air and grunting as the wind of the blizzard suddenly changed direction, swirling Garth's coat around him as his Will lines glowed brighter. With a cry of effort and defiance he thrust his hands out to his sides, the howling wind and snow dispersing in a dome of pure force that covered the area around them. The winds shifted and howled, then suddenly a wolf ran into the cover of the dome. The creature had blood and saliva dripping from his mouth. Reaver raised his pistol and shot the creature right between the eyes, killing it instantly. Another wolf entered the dome, followed by yet another.

"This is easy. Like picking off rebels," Reaver said, intentionally trying to rile Page. He saw her sneer at him as he shot the other two wolves.

"Alright Garth, I think that's it for the wolves…" Ben said, lowering his weapon. Garth put his hands down and blizzard came again with fury, almost knocking Reaver over.

"Damned storm…I ought to…" Reaver barely turned around in time to see the balvarine standing over him. Its white furred face and glowing red eyes made it appear like an apparition in this storm. The thing had large long teeth, which were like bloody stalagmites and stalactites. The creature was once a human, but had been transformed and had long arms and legs and an incredible ability to both jump and climb. It roared at Reaver as he analyzed it.

"Ahem, well, nice to meet you!" Reaver quickly loaded and raised his pistol and shot it three times in the head in a quick succession, sending the creature to the ground in a heap. He reloaded the pistol and prepared to finish off the creature (because one must always shoot it one last time to be sure) when he was knocked into the air by a red balvarine, no doubt a member of the pack of the white he had just fought. He crashed into a high pile of snow.

"By the banshees of Oakvale." Reaver pulled himself up from the snow and saw another one, a black balvarine this time, coming at him. These monsters were the weakest, and Reaver drew his pistol out of the snow pile and killed the mongrel with a shot through its eye. He stood up and swept his cane in one hand and held his pistol in the other. He started up the hill and turned around. Garth was hitting a balvarine with fireballs, his phantom blades circling his head like a halo. But he didn't see Page or Ben. It was no matter, as long as Garth didn't die, he didn't care.

"Garth!" Reaver yelled. The man looked up momentarily before catching one in a vortex, "Come quickly!" Garth blasted another balvarine with his fireball, and then ran up to where Reaver was.

"I can get them all if you give me a little cover."

"Gladly!" Reaver said, drawing his pistol again and firing at the balvarines. Two fell back into the snow, but stood up again moments later.

"Doesn't anything kill these damned things?" Reaver yelled, firing again. Garth was standing beside him, fire in one hand, the flames so bright they were blue, and a small tornado in the other. He was creating a powerful spell, whatever it was.

"I suppose," Reaver said, almost sighing, "I'll have to kill these things the hard way." Reaver holstered his pistol and grabbed his cane. As a balvarine got close to the heroes, Reaver drew a sword from the walking stick and stabbed it in its mouth, driving the weapon straight through its brain.

"Goodbye!" Reaver kicked the creature and it fell to the ground. He spun around quickly and hit another balvarine with a hilt of the cane then stabbed it in the head. The monster roared before hitting the ground.

"I made a deal with your people once. Why can't you-all be more agreeable, like you were then?" Reaver said as he sheathed the sword quickly and drew his pistol in one fluid motion, killing a balvarine with a few well-placed shots.

"Anytime now Garth…" Reaver said as he took aim at another balvarine. However, this was the white balvarine, which roared violently at the site of Reaver.

"Hur…ah!" Garth grunted. Reaver was knocked to the ground as the blizzard resisted Garth's control. It was subdued moments later and formed into a tornado which sucked all the visible balvarines into it.

"Gr…ah!" Garth charged drew back his left hand and launched with a fireball into the snowy twister. The swirling vortex burst into flames, exploding each of the flying balvarines respectively. The burning corpses were strewn across the deep snow, leaving a destructive look in the landscape. Garth turned to Reaver, who was smiling brightly.

"I've missed you magical fingers." Reaver said, not really hiding a suggestive tone.

"You've still got something to prove before you'll receive a compliment."

"Well, then, shall we be going?" One of the balvarines, partially flaming, ran towards the two. Reaver and Garth only turned around in time to hear the rifle shot. They watched the creature die a flaming death, then looked back to find Ben standing next to Page. It was Page, however, who was holding up her gun.

"I can't believe I just saved Reaver's life. First I asked the Queen to save the tyrant Logan, then accepted the Queen's stupid decision to drain the Bowerstone lake. And now I'm saving the most hated man in Albion…" Page frowned and shook her head. Reaver smiled widely and holstered his pistol.

"Page, you'll find me much more agreeable once you really get to know me. With that in mind . . . your bedroom or mine?" Reaver said. Page smacked her forehead and turned around.

"I give up! Kill him now Garth!" Page looked up the find the white balvarine, with three bloody holes in its head. It roared and threw Page aside with a slash, then ran at Reaver. The immortal drew his sword from the cane and struck the creature across its face. It fell to the side but scratched Reaver's arm in the process.

"Ah!" Reaver swung his sword masterfully and stabbed the creature in the ground. As it tried to rise it was suddenly electrified. The thing let out one last roar before it finally died. Reaver looked at Garth, smiling widely.

"Now Garth, I don't want to owe you."

"Oh, don't worry. You've got quite a bit of distance to make up before you don't _owe me_," Garth said with a sigh. He folded his arms and nodded to Page, who was struggling to stand, "My vortex will be evaporating soon. The storm will return in moments. We must hurry." Reaver only then noticed that the blizzard had turned into a gentle snow, and all wind was being sucked behind them.

"Indeed." Reaver went to Page and pushed Ben Finn aside. He hoisted his former mortal enemy onto his shoulder as if she was a sack of vegetables.

"What are you doing?" Ben asked. Reaver turned around and stared him down.

"I don't like to owe anyone. Especially life debts. When she comes to in the Dweller camp, you make it clear to her that I saved her, and that we're even." Reaver was deadly serious in this statement, a tone he'd not used in a long time. He started back toward the wooden bridge, which was a short distance from the Dweller camp. Reaver heard Garth and Ben behind him as the winds started to howl again.

"That man never ceases to amaze me," Ben said with wonder.

"You aren't kidding," Garth answered taciturnly.


	6. Part 1: Chapter 6: The Seer

Once again, I must thank Darth Azreal. He read through my entire story as a rough draft and helped me to make it what it is for you. Thanks so much!

* * *

Chapter 6

The Seer

Page slipped back into consciousness slowly. The first thing she saw was a blue and red mix above her, then slowly she recognized the pattern as the roof of a carriage. She turned to see Ben Finn in a chair nearby, his head down, obviously asleep. She was in a luxurious bed, which seemed strange for the small room. She also saw a grandfather clock ticking away in the corner, which told her this was a very wealthy Dweller. She could only name two people who could own this house. And Reaver would never let Page sleep in his bed without him, (and she wouldn't either considering what bodily fluids might be festering there). She was in the Queen's personal caravan in the Dweller camp.

"Ben…" Page started. Ben snorted and awoke with a start. He jumped from the chair once he noticed Page was awake.

"Page! Oh thank goodness!"

"Ben, what happened?"

"You had a run in with a white balvarine. Reaver, of all people, saved you. He carried you here all by himself."

"I don't believe you."

"He and Garth are still here, if you'd like to ask him yourself. I'm just glad you're safe."

"Thanks..." Page shifted her weight and eventually got up from the bed. Ben ran to her side and grabbed her arm.

"Hold on, I'm not sure you should be standing up yet!"

"I don't have time to wait. Help me up!" Ben bent over and helped Page up, holding her as she instructed. Page stood weakly on her legs, but started to regain feeling quickly and was limping by the time she left the cabin. They traveled up the road, greeted by numerous Dwellers as they finally reached the chieftain's tent. Sabine's majestic dwelling was surrounded by support caravans, which was within a walled section of the camp. Right in front of the wooden door stood Reaver and Garth, who were waiting patiently. Garth was now wearing a Dweller coat and boots. Reaver had on the Dweller clothes he'd stolen earlier, and had his cane and hat with him.

"Oh, Garth if you'd only been here." Reaver was recounting. Page stopped Ben to hear from a distance.

"Why? You've drained Bowerlake, created another Wraithmarsh inappropriately named 'Mourningwood,' filled that with sewage and, to top things off, Albion's been invaded multiple times while I've been gone. I would have wanted to be here because…" Garth said, letting the statement hang.

"If you'd been here along with me, surely the Queen would have won her wars in half the time. And besides, you might have convinced her not to ban alcohol. I do miss my wine and sex parties."

"Why? She repealed the ban a week after the battle with the darkness…what did you call that thing…the Crawler?"

"Yes well, I had to drink in secrecy, in my own home for almost four months before I could wander drunkenly on the streets again!"

"I would say you're hopeless, but in some ways you've proved to be vastly smarter than I'd assumed. Your sword cane also serves as a Guild Seal?"

"Yes, it does. It gives me access to Hero things without lugging around the heavy and painfully garish seal other Heroes used. It's also given me a slight increase in my strength. But I still much prefer my pistol to that decrepit old blade. What about you? Controlling a blizzard is a powerful bit of magic!"

"I spent a great deal of time in Samarkand honing my magical abilities. One of my greatest projects was trying to control the weather of our capital city. I could never really achieve more than basic cloud control before the darkness attacked, but I learned a few things. I assume you're still wielding the Dragonstomper?"

"Oh, good heavens no! Those slow antiques belong in a museum. As much as I loved them, my new favorite firearm is the Reaver Industries Perforator, a gun which gains strength from both killing innocents and having an orgy." Garth shook his head and turned around to Page and Ben, who had been standing behind them, listening to their conversation. Reaver spun around as well, and smiled slyly as he saw the two.

"Now you should know it's rude to eavesdrop. Not that I wouldn't do it in a heartbeat but still, I expected better of you dear Page," Reaver said deviously.

"Reaver…I have to…"

"He saved you Page. I vouch for him. Now, seeing as you're feeling better, let's go see this Sabine person," Garth said, holding out his arm. Page took it and leaned on him heavily. Page felt slight warmth as she touched Garth's shoulder. She put her hand on his arm, and felt the Will lines which decorated his skin. Not only were they beautiful, they actually created heat. Ben took Page's other side, and they started through the opening gate. With Reaver leading, the group walked into the center of the government center, which wasn't all that impressive, save the huge man wearing fur clothing too small for him and with a truly large mustache standing in front of Sabine's tent.

"Huh?" the man grunted, looking down on the Reaver.

"Step aside brute! I must speak with Sabine."

"Go away Reaver! I'm not giving you the time of day! Until Page and Ben Finn come, I don't care!" A small voice with a Dweller accent barked from behind the man.

"Sabine, I'm here!" Page yelled weakly.

"I'm here too…" Ben chimed in as well.

"Boulder! What are you doing? Move!" Boulder stepped aside to reveal an old man no more than four feet high, including his hat. He held a tall staff with a few feathers on it.

"Page and Ben Finn, tis good to see you again! How is the old Queen doing? Did she send you here to treat with me? Perhaps my proposal to bail out the Albion economy again has finally been answered?"

"We are here because we're keeping an eye on Reaver and his friend. They want something which you have…" Page said. Garth left her completely in Ben's hands, and went to Sabine, standing high over him.

"Sabine, I am Garth. I was once known as the Hero of Will. The Dwellers were once the people of Brightwood forest, before you moved north into the mountains. You look familiar."

"Garth…you were…you were the mage who tended to my people…to me, so long ago."

"Yes, and now you have an object of the old king, Sparrow. His music box is of great importance to me."

"Ah, you mean the old piece of junk the Queen found me?" Sabine went back to his tent and started digging through things behind his throne. Finally, he pulled out an octagonal music box which he held before Garth. It had the mark of the heroes, the Guild Seal, on it, as well as a key in it.

"This box, I assume?"

"Yes. May I have that?"

"Of course. But first, you'll have to prove you are in fact, the mage! To start, you'll need to bring me your treasure to replace this one, then…" Garth snatched the music book and hit Sabine with a force push, sending him crashing into his throne.

"I believe I've made it clear the power I wield," Garth said, walking away from Sabine and his bodyguard.

"Fair enough…" Sabine said, rubbing his head. Reaver burst out laughing, barely following the Samarkander as they left the main hall. Ben and Page dragged behind him.

"That old coot didn't know what hit him!" Reaver managed between his laughter. Garth gave him a disinterested look, then started to crank the music box.

"Quickly Ben. Reaver is on a schedule. Two days have already passed since we left Brightwall," Ben started dragging Page, faster, to which she started to feel nauseous. Hurrying was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Yes, come quickly…before he knocks me aside like he did that aged dwarf," Reaver said, catching his breath. Garth cranked the box one final time as Page and Ben entered its range. Garth released the key and the box started to play a song. Suddenly, the group was transported to the middle of a blue octagonal room with a dank air to it. In the center of the room was a map, and slips of paper with poorly signed promises scratched on them hung on the walls. As they appeared with a blast, they heard someone yell from another room.

"Ah, welcome back your majesty, it has been quite some time since you visited. Shall I put the tea on?" Jasper, as Page remembered him, said. He appeared out of one of the rooms. He was wearing a full black suit commonly used by butlers. He had the white hair and pale skin of an old man and appeared as though he was used to carrying things around. He almost jumped to the ceiling at the sight of the group.

"What…what in blue blazes are you doing here?" He challenged shakily.

"What is this place?" Garth demanded. Jasper stammered then ran into a room with the symbol of a weapon over it, likely an armory.

"I believe this is the Hero's Sanctuary. It's where the Queen keeps her weapons and clothing," Reaver answered for him. Garth looked at him strangely.

"Why not a closet?"

"Because only she and Jasper can access this place. At least, that was the idea," Reaver offered with a shrug. Jasper ran back out of the armory holding a rifle. He pointed it at the group, his hands as steady as a veteran soldier.

"How did you get into the Sanctuary?"

"Jasper…please. You know I'm a Hero. Here let me show you," Reaver said, walking toward Jasper. Page was sure he was going to show Jasper his sword which was apparently a small guild seal. As he held up his cane, he suddenly twirled the walking stick and slapped the rifle aside. He made another smooth twist and hit Jasper across the head, sending the servant to the ground.

"Now…maybe we can find something useful around here," Reaver said, starting to look around.

"Are you sure that was entirely necessary?" Garth asked walking over to Jasper's limp form. Page assumed he was still alive.

"Absolutely," Reaver said, stepping onto the glowing Guild Seal on one side of the room. He was transported immediately, leaving Garth, Page, and Ben with a wounded Jasper. Ben looked at the man, then at his uniform, seeing how close he was getting to being court marshaled.

"I was never here!" Ben yelled as he ran into the seal and was transported. Garth shook his head and grabbed Page, allowing her to lean on him.

"Why do you help me mage?"

"I feel a need to respect all other Samarkanders, despite where you grew up, we share a heritage. I help you because I want to Page." Garth helped Page to stand on the seal and she was transported to a gray path leading to Bowerstone Castle.

"Where am I?"

"Page…you should not be here either." An old woman dressed in long red and white robes lifted a hand at Page and suddenly she was frozen solid. She could still see, however, and noticed Reaver tied to a nearby large metal fence and a stone version of Ben next to her.

"_Maybe we should have left Garth and Reaver alone…" _Page thought.

* * *

As Garth was about to step into the seal, Jasper started to awake. Garth turned and dragged him toward him with a force push. He picked the man up and stared into his eyes.

"You remember nothing," Garth flicked Jasper's head and he was suspended in air, trapped in a slow time spell. By the time the butler would hit the ground, he would forget where he was. _"I have gained quite a number of spells since I've been in Albion."_ Garth thought. He believed that he could have easily killed Reaver before he'd returned, but now it wouldn't even be a contest. As he stepped onto the seal, however, felt himself suddenly transported to the famous seer. With a sigh, he folded his arms, preparing for an explanation, _"I guess I don't have to kill Reaver after all."_

"Garth…why have you returned?" Theresa asked. She wore her long red and white cloak, and had her hands clasped together at her waist. She gave Garth the same blank, dead eyed stare which had made him so nervous in the past.

"Because I have finally defeated the darkness in Samarkand, and returned to make Reaver pay for what he did."

"But you must tell her that it wasn't me!" Reaver yelled. Garth noticed he was tied to a large, iron –wrought fence. They were on some sort of path, with other similar fences, chests, and at its end was Bowerstone castle, towering high in the distance.

"Reaver…I think it's time you were silent," Theresa turned to the man and held her hand to his face.

"Theresa, is this the spire?"

"Yes, but it is not for any of you. How you came to be here is not my concern, but you obviously have something you wish of me. Reaver brought you here to prove that he did not purposefully destroy Samarkand. And so I shall."

"Oh, excellent! That is fantastic, thank you ever so much," Reaver started. Theresa turned to face him.

"I warned you but you would not listen. I will make you silent, regardless of your actions." Theresa touched her hand on Reaver's lips and slowly a yellow smoke came out of Reaver's mouth. It choked the man as it left his throat, filling her hand with Reaver's voice. She took it to a nearby chest and dropped into it, which closed in response. Reaver opened his mouth to speak again but a weak sound, something between a squawk and a cough, came out. He looked worriedly at the two.

"Garth, do you want to know the truth?"

"Yes, Theresa. Tell me whether he destroyed Samarkand or not."

"…he didn't…" Garth and Theresa held still for a moment. Garth shuffled around as Reaver squawked triumphantly.

"That's it? No long winded explanation, no…" An explosion appeared around Theresa and the smoke from it showed a swirling torrent of images. Garth looked deeply into them as she explained them.

"This is your home…Samarkand. It's great strength. It's power of knowledge. It was almost overrun by the darkness and destroyed, and will never be right again….This is Aurora, the greatest and most powerful Samarkander colony, and one of the last nations to make contact with Albion…it was destroyed even more completely by the darkness, only to recover because of the efforts of the people of Albion...and this is Albion, completely assaulted by the darkness, and one of the few who succeeded. They defeated the Auroran darkness, known as the Crawler. Garth, only with your true dedication and power, something I didn't even know you were capable off, you were able to destroy the darkness of Samarkand, known as the Life-Eater. Neither of these creatures were the work of Reaver. He did not release either on their respective countries, and is an enemy of the Crawler. However, there are more bringers of darkness in the world, ones who delight in the suffering of others, and who are quick to bargain with the vain, and gullible. Aren't there Reaver?" The basic images of people and nations suddenly shifted to a moving image of Reaver who was slumped against a wall, covered in blood, pistol in hand, and smiling weakly as a monster similar to the Life-eater stared at him. It growled as it fled from the Hero.

"This is the Dueler. It has engaged Hammer before, and as you have seen, Reaver. One day, you may have to face it. But for now, rest easily knowing that Reaver did not destroy your home." The smoke around the woman cleared. Theresa stood still, hands clasped together at her waist and breathing deeply.

"Well, Reaver, you don't deserve to die at my hand then," Garth offered. Reaver nodded intensely. Garth opened the chest and grabbed Reaver's voice from it. He felt a great deal of power holding Reaver's preferred form of communication in his hand, and for a moment, considered dispersing it with his magic. Already his mind had prepared a spell that would do just that. He stopped himself and shoved it back in the immortal's mouth. The man coughed and sputtered in response.

"Dear Avo Garth, you didn't have to be so harsh…huh! Hurrah, I've regain my voice and proven my innocence! Hmm…that something I'd never thought I'd utter…" Garth froze the chains holding Reaver against the fence and then broke the metal, allowing Reaver to fall to the ground.

"Thank you my dear friend." Garth turned around to Page, and summoning a great deal of power, broke the ice around her and let her fall to the ground. She stood up slowly, trying to regain feeling in her hands again.

"Thanks Garth…"

"No problem. Now, Theresa, I don't know how to reverse a petrification spell,"

"It seems you have more to learn then." Theresa held out her hand and, in a flash of green light, released Ben, allowing him to fall mercilessly onto the ground. The man was passed out cold.

"Ben!" Page went to the man and held him. Garth held his hand out, and slowly, Ben returned to life, jumping forward wildly.

"What the? Where am I?"

"You are about to leave, son of Hammer," Theresa said. Ben Finn looked at her, then shook his head and stared her down.

"What? Hammer? No, Jenna and Jacob are my parents. I'm obviously no Hero."

"That is the home you were given to when Hammer decided that the dangers of a hero parent were too much for a child to bare."

"But…" Page started. Theresa turned to her.

"And has Garth told his relative anything?"

"That was not for you to decide!"

"You niece must be given proper respect Garth," Theresa said, pointing to Page.

"As you wish seer, yes. This is the daughter of my oldest brother, and I had to bring her here as a child when the darkness struck. I erased her memories and gave her the memories of a common child of Bowerstone. I had no choice."

"I'm your…"

"…I also assumed the Shadow Court was the cause, so I gave her memories to develop a hatred of Reaver. I suppose, knowing this, that she can release the hatred now." Page shook her head at Garth.

"Well, this is sudden...and it's wonderful to know that I have an uncle who is a spell caster, and that I have Hero blood…but Garth my memories are my own, whether I lived them or not. Besides, I can name enough things in the last year to make me hate Reaver, much less ten." Page said with a sigh. Garth's normally emotionless face slipped into a smile. He turned to Reaver.

"Now, you've seen this Dueler?"

"Possibly."

"Then I will stay with you. Together, we may be able to prepare against this next creature of darkness," Garth said, folding his arms again.

"Excellent indeed! And since we are completely even, I can walk freely with no threat of being killed by you anymore."

"Is that so…" Ben said, removing a book from his backpack and pointing it at Garth, "Because I know of an explosion in a bar in Samarkand which is probably of interest to you…" Garth grabbed the book and read the title as _Reaver on Reaver_.

"The explosion…in the bar…that was you?" Garth turned around to a Reaver, who was backing away.

"Now Garth let me explain…"

"Reaver...I'm going to kill you!" Garth yelled as the group was transported in a great bright light by Theresa.


	7. Part 2: Chapter 1: Training

Part 2: The Dueler

Chapter 1

Training

"Reaver! It's Reaver! Reaver's tough! Reaver's boss, I've stolen Reaver's used up floss!" Benjamina screamed out. Garth only knew her chant by reading her lips, as she was standing at the foot of Reaver's vast mansion, and he in the room he'd stayed in the night before. He coldly watched as the woman danced around, spouting Reaver based poetry. Reaver entered the room and walked mischievously to stand next to Garth.

"She implies I use floss, what a humorous thought! She is rather obsessive…and quite persistent. It would be endearing if it weren't so creepy," Reaver said with a sigh. Garth turned to him, arms folded and face in a frown.

"If you don't shut her up…I will," He said threateningly, small tongues of flame dancing around his fingers. Reaver rubbed his temples and started back out of the room.

"I'll go see to her then," Garth heard the immortal stomp down the steps and exited his home. As he walked out into view, Benjamina, grabbed his arms and started to rub them. Reaver slapped her away and started to explain something. It had been three months since Garth had moved back to Albion, and thankfully only the eighth time he and Reaver had to scare her away. Reaver had explained to him the story of this woman, how she originally only been a drunken one night stand, which evolved into a love of Reaver not uncommon for his many mistresses. Unlike most, who, after rejection by the immortal, leave him with despair and depression, Benjamina became an obsessive fan, who Reaver ultimately obtained a restraining order against from King Logan. However, as she started to hang around the castle more, waiting to see Reaver as he attended to the day's duties, King Logan strongly considered lifting the order, and placing a new one for the castle grounds. When King Logan resigned, and Reaver tried keep child labor with a complex scheme, the new Queen withdrew the restraining order and allowed her to stand outside of Reavers' home whenever she felt like it. Now, as Reaver eventually threw a sock down into the Bower Lake mines, which inspired her to run into the mine and likely to a normally fatal fall, Garth considered that she likely had a purpose to play, for rarely did fate bring such a strange person into his life. Garth shook the thought away, then noticed Page and Ben Finn arriving from the distance. They looked very tired, but ready to train. Garth recalled the group's arrival in Millfields clearly.

"And here is my home! Now, I assume you wish to kill me?" Reaver said with a sly smile on his face. He voice was strained however, even a little annoyed. Garth didn't care that much though. He only wanted to kill Reaver.

"Why should I not try? Why should a life owed not be paid with a life?" Garth challenged furiously, the Will lines that covered his body flaring. Reaver turned around, eyebrows up and hand on his heart in shock. He was still smiling however, which gave his false shock away.

"Garth, Garth, you misunderstand! I am a glutton for attention! I'll write anything if someone will read it. Besides, why would I try to kill you?"

"As you stated in your book…_'It was then I had the brilliant notion, that would simultaneously catapult me out of that humdrum country and put an end to Garth's miserable existence, as well as diverting me for several minutes. I stood in front of that sober crowd and thanked Garth for bringing me to the exciting and fulfilling country with as much sarcasm as humanly possible, then apologized for having to leave before shooting at my head and missing in just a way as to ricochet the bullet into several explosive crates. I was catapulted from the room, and landed squarely outside. Theresa, the boorish mage I described earlier, appeared in a puff of smoke and demanded to know the meaning of the destruction, and after telling her a truly harrowing tale, the witch transported me back to Albion,_'" Garth quoted word for word. Reaver started to draw back again, Garth charging another spell.

"I…I…Garth…we can work this out…"

"If I'd intended to kill you…you'd already be dead. But I don't."

"You don't?" Reaver said, standing up straight and an actual frown of confusion forming on his face.

"No, I plan to make you do something much worse. I think it's clear that you have a fair amount of ability, as do I. And, seeing that you've not only faced the Dueler, but that you're also a Hero, we are going to stop that thing, and you're not getting away from my wrath until you do so," Garth said, unfeelingly cold. Reaver raised a questioning eyebrow and at the man.

"What exactly do you suggest we do?"

"We are going to train," sending Reaver to the angriest he'd ever seen the man.

"Training, as in physical activity outside the bedroom?! This beautiful figure? Train?! I don't think so!"

"Oh, not you..." Garth turned to Page and Ben, who were standing beside them, "We'll need more than the two of us to defeat it…"

"Hmm…two more heroes, which means less hero work I have to do…and I get to tell somebody what to do. When do we start?" Reaver asked with a smile. Garth was propelled back the present as Reaver yelled from the doorway.

"Our dear pupils are here Garth! Oh look at them, aren't they precious?" The immortal gunman bellowed. Garth turned from the window and walked down the stairs, seeing Page with her holy weapon and Ben with a rifle. Garth noticed Reaver's face had slipped into a frown. This was actually only the second time he'd seen Reaver frown in the days of training. Ben and Page had agreed happily to train under Garth and…well mostly Garth, and they were learning how to survive the most grueling and intense situations experienced by man.

"Alright Garth. What do I get to break in half today?" Page asked with a sigh. Garth almost smiled at the question.

"Well, I've got a special something you need to cut through today, but leave Avo's Lamentation here. You'll be using this," Garth handed her a sharp, but common sword. Reaver looked to Ben, who'd he'd taken under his tutelage.

"I've set up a target at the other side of Millfields and Gentlemen Girod is out there, ready to set up the target as soon as we knock it down. Are you ready for your final test?" Ben gulped and nodded, gripping his rifle tighter. Garth assumed the career soldier would've preferred to not learn anything from Reaver, but they didn't have the luxury of time. Page and Ben had to become heroes and soon. The group walked out onto what was once Reaver's front yard, which was now covered by mining equipment and various devices.

"You know Reaver, I never understood why you didn't open the river again and allow it to flow into Bower Lake after the Crawler was defeated," Page asked, looking at the somewhat distant dam.

"And waste all those precious metals? No my dear, I'll not release that lake until this land is stripped clean."

"Reaver…you're such a bad man…" Page said with a sigh. Reaver just smiled widely.

"And you know you love it."

"Quiet. Now, this is one of the few trees that Reaver has left," Garth said, with an air of impatience. He was getting rather tired of their bickering, but felt deeply loyal to Page.

"Yes, I see that." Garth pointed at it and looked at Page.

"Cut it in half."

"With a sword? How about an axe? Maybe with a hammer I could topple it."

"No, you must cut it in half. In one stroke." Page's mouth dropped as she heard the order.

"How? This thing is tougher than brick!" Page said, tapping it with her sword.

"That's an exaggeration."

"To make a point!" Page said, feeling the tree bark. Ben watched the two, shaking his head.

"Now, Mr. Finn, I've got a little test for you! You see that target in the distance. Shoot it right now!"

"With a rifle? From here?"

"You can do it, or maybe you can't…I really could care less."

"Now, before I try this, can somebody explain to me again why I have to be a gunman when my mother was the Hero of Strength…?" Ben asked. Garth looked at him with disinterest.

"Because, unlike the descendants of William Black, the other heroes have almost random abilities, some being Strength, some being Skill, and some being Will, with no particular connection to one's parent's ability, or even if one's parents were heroes at all."

"That's right! So you should easily be able to destroy this target!"

"Page, you can succeed. A hero could do this…and if you wish to be a hero you must do it!" Page sighed and swung her sword, hitting the tree as hard as she could. It left a small dent in the tree but did no real damage.

"Garth…this is impossible!"

"Page…calm your mind. You can't just attack with all your strength. To truly unlock the power of a hero, one must release one's belief in limits," Garth said, closing his eyes and allowing flames to form in his hands, his Will-lines glowing brightly in response.

"Okay…release limits…" Page held her hand back and waiting. She breathed deeper, and deeper, until she allowed her eyes to close and spun in a full flourish motion and slammed the sword into the tree. Her weapon crashed into the bark and stuck into the wood. Page fell back, looking in defeat at the half broken tree and the stump of blade in her hand.

"I failed…"

"You didn't do what I told you, no, but I think you've proven yourself," Garth said, picking up a broken half of a sword. He pointed to Page's hand. She looked down and found her broken weapon, and a smile slipped on her face. Reaver tapped his cane on the ground in support.

"Right! Very good Page! Now, Mister Finn, just shoot the damned target!' Ben lifted his rifle and tried to line up a shot, but he ultimately dropped it.

"It's too far! I can't keep steady!"

"Keep steady?! For the love of…" Reaver grabbed the rifle and shot at the target, hitting it without even looking at it. Ben looked at it in shock, and then turned back to Reaver.

"Holy mother of…"

"Just shoot it! It's right there!" Reaver said, reloading the gun and throwing it back into Ben's hands, then pointed at him, "Do that thing Garth said, let go of you reasoning or whatever it is, no limits and all that Samarkand nonsense." Ben glanced at Reaver one more time then held up his rifle and shot, barely hitting the target on the top side.

"I hit it!"

"You missed! It's a target for a reason! You're supposed to hit the center! Whatever, you are now a lot closer than you were, so you've improved enough to pass my test! You're a hero…" Ben saluted proudly. Page turned to Garth who nodded the same.

"As the former Heroes of Skill and Will, we recognize the new Heroine of Strength and Hero of Skill."

"Thank you Garth!" Page said with a nod. Garth gave her the holy weapon, allowing her to swing it at the tree and break it in half completely.

"And, Mister Finn, you are in need of a good rifle to match the power of our weapons. Here is the rifle of Harriet Thatcher, the only female guard of Bowerstone and notoriously known for getting the job done. Too bad she tried to take down corruption in my factory. If only she'd not drawn that very rifle on me in that night. . ." Reaver went to a box and took out the parts of the weapon. Ben took them into his hand and examined them, testing their weight and looking down the sights. He assembled the rifle and shouldered it, then aimed it at the target in the distance.

"This rifle is amazing. In fact, I might even be able to…" Ben pulled the trigger and fired the rifle, this time hitting the bull's eye.

"Good work! Though, you can't blame everything on the gun," Reaver said. He turned around quickly and started back toward his house, "I'm famished! Come now, let us get something to eat!" Garth, with Page and Ben beside him, followed the man toward his house. As they arrived, several butler-looking figures were moving around the manor, setting up the largest and most dramatic of Reaver's dining tables. Reaver's tacky servant, Gentleman Girod came bursting through the door, holding a heavy target and panting heavily. Reaver turned to him with a frown.

"Where have you been? Get to work!" Reaver said, tapping his cane impatiently.

"Yes sir." Gentlemen Girod ran into the other room. Reaver, Garth, Page, and Ben sat around the table, waiting for his overworked and underpaid servants to gather food together. Garth remained motionless as Reaver recounted the tales of his pirating career.

"Then, as the old captain sent up a signal, threatening me from all the way across the water, I walked to the side and, still in pajamas mind you, shot the man without a second thought. He fell right off the boat and crashed into the water. The pathetic members of the ship sent up a surrender signal immediately, and that was the easiest pirating I've ever done! But, like most things in life, it became boring soon enough, and I moved on to more exciting pursuits, like building Bloodstone. Or turning Wraithmarsh into a tourist destination."

"Reaver, you an evil man," Page said, seething. Reaver smiled and twirled his cane.

"Oh, you flatter me Page! Your fury must be indescribable in the bedroom,"

"Enough! I'm going to tell you a story now, Garth. The story of how I was captured with the Queen of Albion and we ultimately defeated his stupid wheel of misfortune."

"Now Page! You're digging into old history!" Reaver said, a shocked look on his face. Page rolled her eyes and leaned in toward Garth.

"Reaver was sided against the Queen with her brother, King Logan. With the army split into a civil war, Dwellers and mercenaries sending raids into Bowerstone and everything east of Brightwall in total insurrection, Logan was on the verge of destruction. The Queen asked for our help, the oppressed people of Bowerstone, and earned it by coming with me to defeat Logan's last powerful ally. That man! We broke into this very house, where we found it in tatters and torn to pieces from a party gone horribly wrong. We had hoped to find a few of my men, who'd been captured by Reaver."

"Oh come now Page! You're echoing hyperbolic propaganda." Garth had to admit that Reaver had a remarkable vocabulary, "The party was fantastic, that is, till you arrived. There I was, entertaining my guests as the number of conscious ones became less and less. And then this brute comes in, demanding all four of her men back, when three had broken into a previous party and lost their lives in the process, while I found the fourth lying on the street and tended him to health. I was keeping him a comfortable suite loft, high enough so that he could see the crowd, but with the ability to go low enough to be a part of the action!"

"You mean the cage you had Kidd in? And it was fourteen of my men Reaver!"

"And what about the gracious excitement I was providing my guests with you two at the center stage?"

"You mean when you tried to have the Queen and I executed with that evil wheel I have to see every time I come in this house!" At that moment, Gentleman Girod ran into the room and bowed before Reaver.

"What the hell are you doing here? You've returned without anything to eat!"

"Sir, this letter for you!" He shoved the letter in Reaver's face worriedly. Reaver took it from him.

"Hmm…let me see…why Garth, it seems that we have been called to the castle. This is a summons. Apparently the Queen wants to see us immediately."

"That was much sooner than expected, but not unreasonable." Garth uttered, standing up and looking at the man, "Tell Mr. Girod to pack our food. We must leave now if our plan is to work!"

"Yes sir!" Girod said, saluting. Reaver rubbed his head and grabbed his cane.

"Alright, you two know what you've been assigned to do now that you're full heroes?"

"Yes," Ben said. Page nodded and stood up, leaving with Finn. Garth turned to Reaver.

"Gentlemen Girod had these biscuits and pork made for us. Ready to go?"

"Am I ready to leave your home, and live out in the wild instead of in the warm, but disturbing comfort of this manor? Absolutely," Garth said. Reaver looked at him puzzled for a moment, then his face slipped into a smile.

"Oh, what a horrid sense of humor…at least it's improving."


	8. Part 2: Chapter 2: The Queen's Summons

Chapter 2

The Queen's Summons

Reaver leaned back on the elaborate carriage seat, twirling a curl of his hair. He was halfway leaning over the seat, glancing out at the thick fields of the Millfield farmers. He'd always found farms a beautiful example of humanity. They were, at a base level, man telling the earth how and what to grow. Man taking their destiny in his own hands, making his food, no longer dependent on fate and hunting to feed himself. And of course, it reminded him of his childhood in Oakvale, working in his family's farm. He'd almost bought a farm himself, simply for the sake of nostalgia, but abhorred the concept of working on a field. He looked back inside the carriage. Garth was sitting on the bench across from him, his head down. He was breathing gently, almost unmoving in his sleep. Reaver glanced quickly to his cane, which was propped against the side door. That was his greatest tool. With it, he had a chance against enemies from any distance. He could use any gun to kill someone, but only one sword worked for him. He looked up to his hat, which rested on a stand over his head. He had his full uniform, his long white tailcoat with black fur lining hanging on one stand with Garth's blue traveling jacket, his boots across the floor and his slacks and waistcoat hugging his figure. He'd never had the muscles of those who wielded normal weapons, but what muscles he did have were those of a gymnast, hard and wiry. Even when he'd decided to go berserk with eating for about five years, he'd never gained more than twelve pounds, and as soon as he started pirating, he'd lost it all. Likely a side effect of immortality.

"Ah, Garth, if only you could see past your own concerns, you might know how hard it is to be what I am…" Reaver whispered. He looked Garth over, the man's long white braids, his glowing blue lines all across his visible skin, his intricate belt with several artifacts, scrolls and potions on it. The man was wearing basic clothes otherwise, a loose fitting blue shirt and dark pants, all of it embroidered with the markings of the Old Kingdom and ancient runes of Samarkand. Garth really hadn't aged much since Reaver had left Samarkand. He'd remained as handsome as he was before. Reaver reached out his hand slowly, moving to caress Garth's face.

The carriage suddenly bounced over a relatively large rock and jostled the two, awaking Garth with a start.

"What in?" Garth shook his head. Reaver withdrew his hand in an instant. Garth looked at him for a moment, then glanced out the window. The landscape was still covered with farms but a small bit of fog could be seen in the distance.

"We aren't that close…somebody just cannot drive…" Reaver opened the carriage door and leaned his head out.

"Girod, if you hit one more rock, I'm going to dispose of you like I did my last servant, Barry Hatch. Would you like to end up balvarine fodder?"

"No sir! Sorry sir."

"Reaver…you feed your servants to balvarines?"

"Actually, that was Page's fault. I liked Barry. He was very loyal, and shorter than me. And that lisp, oh how delightful."

"I'd say you're a strange man, but I'm not a hypocrite, so I'll call you vain."

"Oh ho, Garth! Come now, even you have preferred traits. I do admit to being rather vain however. I did sacrifice my entire village for these perfect features and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"Hmph…" Garth grunted in thought.

"You discover something? Figure out the Reaver vanity spell?

"No, but it is interesting. Most people gifted with long lives are wiser, and more gracious. You however, became an unreasonable, discourteous, and selfish."

"Oh come now! The majority of Albion's people, the Aurorans, and even most of your eccentric people would abuse the chance to be immortal, just as I have. It's simply that, generally, those gifted with long life or able to discover it are thoughtful, wise fossils, like yourself," Reaver said, leaning back. Garth sat up and watched the man as he twirled his hair again.

"I just wanted to live. I didn't want to age…I was afraid of death, of growing old…that wasn't me!" Reaver shook the thought away and looked at Garth, "Are you afraid of death, old mage?"

"One does not fight the Life-Eater for ten years and fear death."

"You don't fear the darkness, or nothingness?"

"I lost the ability to be afraid. I would have died had I not. I doubt many Aurorans still fear it either."

"Yes, well, I've never stared death in the face…except maybe Lucien, but we all know how that turned out. And you my friend…I thought you might crush me with those rocks in the reliquary…anyway, death is generally unknown to me, besides causing it of course, and the unknown is hard to come to terms with…"

Garth smiled, almost smugly. "Hmm…the infallible Reaver…it can be easy to forget that you're just a human with doubts and fears like everyone else."

"Don't tell anyone that! I've an image to uphold. And convince Page to stop hating me!"

"I tried. I even lied to her so that she would stop hating you. I've done all I can."

"Wait…you just….you didn't make her hate me?"

Garth looked at Reaver like he'd grown a second head. "Of course not. Why would I waste my time with you when I was trying to save Page? No Reaver, you did that yourself, by trying to kill her and looking down on her and doing all the things you did when Logan was king."

"Well then…I guess I have quite the hatchet to bury with her don't I? I'd still like to bed her…and the Queen…we could throw that Ben Finn man in there too. You're welcome to come as well, I'm sure we could find some room for you too,"

"Ah...Reaver…" Garth said, pinching his temples, the will lines in his body flashing faintly in frustration.

* * *

"Quickly! Get that door covered soldier. Hobson, where is my pointer?"

"Right here your majesty…" Hobson said with a bow, handing the Queen her instructional stick. She took it and began moving pieces on a map, starting with a small pin symbolizing an army to Millfields. She then pushed two small Guild Seals, one yellow and one blue, which symbolized Garth and Reaver, to Bowerstone Castle.

"As long as Ben Finn is covering Brightwall, East Albion should be okay. West Albion is of more concern."

"My lady, I am ready to offer you a navy, the size of which is unmatched in the world, but I must ask for an increase of troops in the desert fort. We will need protection from the army. Have we not suffered enough?" Kalin, the leader of the Aurorans, a hairless chieftain who was a close friend of the Queen, entered the room. While the Queen often struggled to come up the vast sums of money necessary to keep the Aurorans safe, she agreed again and again to help them. This would be no different.

"Alright Kalin, take what you need,"

"Thank you your majesty. Our navy is yours."

"My Queen," Jasper said, running into the room, "The heroes are here!"

"Good, we will need their help if we are to defend ourselves against this next wave of darkness." The Queen turned from Kalin and walked with her to the castle gates. There, Garth and Reaver exited their carriage and meet the Auroran and Alban leaders.

"Kalin! What a pleasure! How's that wasteland? Is the mine still abandoned and the precious metals unused?"

"No, we've actually started operations, if you'd like to know, without you. And the workers get reasonable pay, benefits, and breaks, unlike those slaves and children you fill your factories with."

"Bah! Slaves cannot leave their jobs, and besides, I'm going straight to my factory and cleaning it out as soon as we've answered this summons. Now, your majesty…"

"I would like to ask for your Skill. We now stand on the brink of war…"

"What?" Garth asked, shocked. He'd obviously assumed that he'd been asked to just talk with the Queen. It appeared pleasantries would have to wait.

"Garth, I need all the strength I can muster now. The people of the nation of Francia have threatened us. They have killed our envoys and struck at our merchant vessels between Aurora and Albion."

"But…Francia? It is an insular kingdom to the far southeast, across the Auroran channel. What purpose do they have attacking Albion?" Garth asked.

"The Franican navy has attacked our ships before; though we have always resolved the conflict between us before violence embroiled our kingdoms. However, they claim that today, the people of Albion released a monstrous darkness on them, and they only have beaten it back and not defeated it. They claim that Albion will be a safer home for their people, and will conquer it so as to make it such. Their ships are already moving to establish an embargo around our land. We cannot let them take our nation, or release their darkness on us."

"What is the name of this darkness?" Garth yelled suddenly, grabbing the Queen by her bodice. In an instant the rifles of the Queen's personal soldiers were aimed at his head along with half a dozen swords from the standard castle guard.

"What…"

"What is the name of the darkness in Francia?"

"Uh…they called it the…Dueler…"

"…Then we have even less time…" Garth said, releasing the Queen from his grasp. He turned away and in deep thought. He suddenly spun around to face Reaver.

"You know your duties…"

"I shall attend to them at once," Reaver said with a bow. He walked out, moving gracefully and catlike to the door. Garth looked back to the Queen.

"Reaver and I will fight with you, your majesty, and we will prepare. But know that this darkness is a threat like the Crawler, and many times great than any Francian fleet. You must arrange a meeting with the King of Francia, and with a great deal of urgency. I believe the island of Godwin is under the Crown's control, correct? This would be a good place for a meeting. You must assure him that we have not done this, and that we will help them fight the Dueler."

"No! The Crawler returns? Fine, I shall meet with him, but what will you do?"

"Reaver and I have a plan. Just allow us to move freely through Albion and be ready to fight upon our return," Garth nodded and left the room. The Queen looked at her guards, who saluted and exited with the Hero, leaving her with Jasper and Kalin.

"What should we do your highness?" Kalin asked.

"Send a message to the Francians. We will prove our innocence."

* * *

"Well, this trail is a lot less scary without an army of Balvarines coming after us," Ben Finn said, smiling at Page. She halfheartedly looked at him, then to the gentle snow littering the ground.

"I agree…" Page said. Ben rubbed his hands together and glanced around, nervously thinking of something to say.

"I…um…what's…uh…is something wrong?"

"Yes…I still can't get over what Garth said. To think he implanted my hatred of Reaver…that the hatred's not mine…"

"But you've taken it over all yourself. The hatred of Reaver is completely yours Page. At least now it is."

"I used to think that…but now, my childhood memories are foggy, and it seems that most aren't even mine. I didn't have any parents. I was an orphan, a street rat who had only my brother and the other child laborers to look out for me…or was that even true? Was Cedric even my brother? Was I really a daughter of Samarkand?"

"I don't know Page…my world has been rocked to. My parents and brothers, were all adopted, unreal…my mother was a Hero…hey, I've got an idea! Once we've gotten what we need, I say we go into the reliquary. In there are the treasures and goods of each hero. I can see the treasures of my mother, and you can see the treasures of your uncle, and maybe we can find some clarity."

"That may be a good idea." Page said. She turned to Ben Finn and kissed him on the cheek, making him gawk slightly.

"You know Major Finn you're quite something."

"Well, thank you…" He said, blushing badly. He'd wanted to be with Page for a long time. Now, even though Reaver was the center of their recent conversation, he might get a chance.

"So, we're planning to stay at the Queen's caravan for the night right? The one with the luxury bed?"

"Not so fast Ben. I'm a pious girl, or so Garth implanted on me," Page said, holding a hand out. Ben sighed. He'd never get to be with Page. It would never be anything more than an occasional kiss on the cheek.

"Now, Ben, I'm not resistant to it. I just want to wait for the right…moment." Page knocked Finn aside as a gunshot rung out in the mountain side. Highwaymen dropped from the trees surrounding the two.

"Well, look what's wandered into our humble abode, a rich lady from Bowerstone with her little guard. I wonder how much we could sell ya back for lass."

"You're talking to the Mayor of Bowerstone you know!" Ben yelled, drawing his rifle. Page slapped her forehead and looked at Ben.

"Are you going to tell them how much money we have with us too?"

"Sorry…"

"Hey, this is the lass from Bowerstone fellows…we could make a pretty penny on…" the man was stopped from finishing his sentence with a shot from Ben's rifle, which killed the man immediately. The other highwaymen looked at his dead form then rushed the two.

"Kill the soldier! Get the lass!"

"I'm not as easy to capture as you think!" Page roared, drawing her sword and slashing an attacker so hard across the chest that the man flew off the mountain, crashing on the ground below. The two battled like old veterans, beating back a circle of enemies with well-placed shots and quick strikes. Soon, a bloody mass of highwaymen were all that remained of the bandits, leaving Page and Ben Finn smiling.

"I guess we are heroes."

"Oh, I'm not a hero, I'm just the best soldier in the Alban army," Ben Finn said proudly.

"Is that so?" A large mercenary appeared from behind a bend. He had gauntlets on his hands, which meant he could do a small amount of magic. Page and Ben turned their weapons to the man.

"I'm going to challenge that claim Major Finn, and get you out of this damned valley once and for all!"

"Muddy Mark…I thought I recognized your stench!" Ben said. He took four quick shots at the man, but they seemed to have no effect. The man blasted Ben with a fireball, which sent him to the ground, patting his shirt.

"Hold on Ben!" Page said, jumping in front of him, Avo's Lamentation in her hand. Muddy Mark tried to strike her, but she rolled aside and slashed at his leg, which sent him to the ground. He groaned as he rose again, kicking Page aside and hitting Ben with another fireball.

"Oh…" Ben Finn flipped over and snuffed the fires on his jacket then pulled himself onto one knee and grabbed his rifle again.

"Dirty Harriet, don't fail me…"

"Here I come, Major Finn! Ready to die?" Ben aimed straight at Muddy Marks head, then suddenly felt the rifle moving on its own. He fired at both of the large highwayman's knees then into his stomach, which had the man doubled over. Finally, the rifle fired once into the top of the man's head, sending his lifeless form to the side.

"Huh…I'm feeling that hero blood now."

"I guess so," Page said, holding a hand out and helping him to his feet, "Maybe I should let you lead and take out our enemies before they even know we're here," Page smiled and hugged Ben.

"Ben..."

"Yes Page…"

"You really are my Hero." She grabbed him and kissed him deeply on the lips.


	9. Part 2: Chapter 3: Preparations

Chapter 3

Preparations

"Ah! How good it feels to be home!" Reaver declared as he stepped from Bowerstone Market's street onto Bowerstone Industrial's great roads, which all led to the massive factories that filled the sky with thick black smoke. Giant ships slipped through the slow, murky river waters, while grand vessels from Aurora brought spices, metals, and rugs to the city. As Reaver was bouncing happily through his city, he noticed a riot forming around one of his factories.

"Reaver doesn't care about us! Reaver doesn't want what's best for us! He only ended child labor because the Queen forced him too! When it comes down to truly caring for the people of the city, only our mayor, Page, does so! I say, we protest Reaver and force him to hand over control of Bowerstone Industrial to the government!" Reaver smiled brightly. It had been a while since he'd gotten to shoot an innocent.

"Oh, my dear worker, I don't think I've forgotten about my rules of complaining!" Reaver drew his pistol and shot the man in the leg, sending him to the ground rolling in pain. The people of the riot drew back in shock as Reaver walked over to the ring leader and stared right at him, calmly reloading his pistol with absent minded precision.

"I gave you benefits and schools for your children. I emptied the sewage from Bowerstone into the Mourningwood and saved you the disease and stench. I loyally helped the Queen raise the money needed to protect you from that awful Crawler. Just because I have very strict time limits on bathroom breaks and a general ban on complaining, it doesn't mean I'm a tyrant. I'm quite loving, once you get to know me." Reaver shot the man again, right in the left shoulder, maximizing pain while minimizing chance of death. Torture had been a pastime he'd dabbled in for about thirty years.

"Now, tell me, what exactly is your beef with my factory?"

"It's your-" Reaver shoved his cane into the man's mouth before he could finish. He leaned close, pretending to listen, then stood up and pointed to the factory workers watching.

"What's that, corrupt management from the board of directors? I'll see to clearing out the administration and returning this business to the clean and respectable practices it is famous for!" Reaver said, pushing through his workers to the headquarters, a small tower high over the many factories of Bowerstone Industrial.

Reaver burst through the doors of the room to find a full meeting of the entire board of directors. They turned to him and all humbled themselves at his presence. _"Perfect."_Reaver thought.

"Why, Chief Executive Reaver! What a pleasure to see you here!"

"It is so good that you have returned!"

"How are profits?" Reaver demanded.

"Booming as always! Since we run schools, we can get our taxes returned by the government. Except for that damned corporate tax which the Mayor of Bowerstone controls."

"What a shame…is it true…that we have become a corrupt organization?" Reaver said almost sadly.

"What? Uh…I wouldn't know of any corruption…" The chairman offered. Reaver drew his pistol and shot him, this time aiming to kill. The man was dead before he knew what happened.

"Your lack of enthusiasm on the subject exposes your guilt. I think it's time we started over with our board. Reaver Industries is cleaning house!" Reaver fired at another board member and hit him between the eyes, scattering his brains all over the wall. The other board members started to run, Reaver's pistol shots ushering them out.

"Now…I need some new members…" Reaver said, smiling at the carnage which was formerly his meeting room. He left the tower and immediately went to the pub. He found three men drinking. One was heavily inebriated, and ranting about the administration of the factories. One man saw Reaver and tried to stop his friend, but to no avail.

"Dave, I think you should stop talking!"

"Now you listen here Steve! Those idiots don't know what they're doing in this factory! Why, I could run this company better'n those stupid wankers!"

"Excellent!" Reaver yelled. The drunken man turned around and a sickly pale color filled his face.

"Mr. Reaver…sir…I didn't…"

"No, you did, I heard you myself. And you know what, you're right! So, you and your fellow drinkers are official members of the new board of directors! Report to the headquarters tower tomorrow morning! And leave the drinks at the pub."

"Really mister Reaver? You won't…hic…be disappointed!"

"Good. Carry on then." Reaver turned and found a foolish looking woman standing out in front of her house, sweeping it carefully.

"Are you ready for the opportunity to make money with no real work or pressure on yourself?" Reaver asked, not just to her but several members of the community.

"Well, my goodness. I suppose so." The woman replied.

"I'd say so! That's what I do for a living." A beggar, who Reaver found in Bowerstone proper, responded.

"Well…if I don't have any real work, I'd be happy to do it!" A somewhat psychotic man who'd Reaver found perusing hammers and with an obvious inclination to kill said.

"Wait…no pressure to myself…it sounds like there's a catch…" Reaver promptly shot this man, unwilling to accept an attack on his character from a commoner.

"Do I gotta leave my home in Brightwall?" Reaver just then noticed it was the spitter from Brightwall who'd he just asked to join the board of directors.

"On second thought, never mind…it's a scam anyway and I wouldn't dream of taking money from a vigilante!" Reaver started to leave when a man jumped out in front of him.

"I dreamed of taking money in a scam once. If you're running one, I want in!"

"Wait a minute…you're…oh my…" Reaver suddenly drew back, recognizing the man as he revealed his face. "You were one of my factory managers. Mr. David Boyle. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here because you are ripping somebody off! The Queen put me out of business when she didn't let me control Understone. I tried to conquer the area again and again, but soldiers started marching around, and I couldn't do anything! If you're offering another chance to get rich quick, I'll take it!"

"This is a legitimate business! I wouldn't dream of scamming somebody!"

"Wait a minute…" The man spat at the stone street and left a visible amount of chewed tobacco on the ground, "I thought you said…"

"I'm not referring to that business!"

"Then what are you referring to?" Boyle said, pulling out an old crossbow, the wood stained and gouged, it's drawstring frayed. Reaver could have killed the two in a heartbeat, but an all-out fight wasn't what Reaver wanted at the moment. The immortal sighed and decided to resolve the situation immediately.

"Congratulations gentlemen, you have both been appointed to the board of directors. And no, you don't have to sell your house in Brightwall. Just come west to Reaver Industries headquarters once a month. And don't spit in my building or I will shoot you. I mean it!" the Brightwall spitter nodded and launched another ball of chewed tobacco onto the ground. Boyle laughed manically and began rubbing his hands together. Reaver pinched the bridge of his nose then looked at the two.

"Tomorrow, nine o'clock, don't be late or I will maim then kill you." Reaver shook his head and went back to the headquarters now with enough replacement board members. With the band of idiots he gathered, he could do whatever he wanted. Not that he really cared what the board thought, but a radical reversal in business practice needed board approval. And only a stupid board would go with what he was doing.

"Now for setting our plan in motion," Reaver said, going to a meeting room in the building and starting to draw the new business plan on a giant white presentation sheet.

* * *

"Dwellers are the Queens to command as always Page, I don't understand why you've gathered us here for this," Sabine grunted, lighting a cigar and taking a long drag.

"Wait Sabine, let me explain my plan."

"I don't really know why I'm here then either. Brightwall doesn't have armies, other than the guard, which you command Major Finn."

"I understand Samuel…but…"

"My men are ready to fight at the Queen's command. We followed commands exactly as her majesty instructed, and we will do the same again."

"SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!" Page screamed, slamming her fist on the table. Saker, Sabine, and Samuel all hushed themselves at this. Boulder, Sabine's bodyguard, was also in the room, but simply continued to stare blankly at Page and Ben Finn as they spoke, his only reaction to the display of anger was to shift his weight so that he was closer to Sabine. Page sighed at the silence of the room and smiled.

"Now, pay attention." Ben Finn started, pointing at a large map of Albion and Aurora hanging on the wall, "We will need a small army of Dwellers to stand watch at the entrance of Wraithmarsh, as a sort of choke point. The rest of the Dwellers need to either go west to Bowerstone or stay in the Dweller Camp. Saker, you'll need to split your men into three groups, one to the north, in Brightwall, one to cover for the Dwellers southern entrance, and one final army to go to Bowerstone to receive orders from the Queen. I would ask that the Mercenary camp be abandoned for this."

"Fair enough," Saker responded.

"You are a friend, and speak for the Queen Major Finn! My men will move as you have instructed," Sabine agreed.

"Alright, my guards will withdraw from Mistpeak valley and bolster Brightwall, but I can't promise that you won't carry the brunt of the load at the village Saker," Ben said.

"My men understand their duty. They do as they are told, or I gut them."

"Now, Samuel, I've got a very special task for you," Page said, leaning over to the man.

"What…what's that?"

"A guild seal. We need a guild seal."

"Why would I have a guild seal?"

"I found this book in Brightwall Academy. Oh, and let me give this back to you." Ben Finn said, taking out _Reaver on Reaver_and handing it to Samuel.

"I'd normally get mad, but not even I missed this…"

"Anyway, I found this at your library." Ben Finn removed _Guild Seals: The Symbols of Heroes,_and dropped in front of Samuel, who snatched the book with a great deal more concern.

"This is one of Garth's books!"

"I tried reading it and, while I'm not the most preeminent reader, I got the gist of the book. If you get us a guild seal, we can get into the Reliquary and get to Hammer's and Garth's tombs!"

"How do you know about…Reaver…" Samuel said, shaking his head. He looked back at the two and sighed.

"I cannot make promises, but I will take you to the Reliquary. Are your mercenaries ready Saker?"

"Always, sir!" Saker said saluting.

"Then we will take the army with us. Come, we leave as soon as possible. And I need to get to Bowerstone quickly," Samuel said, standing up and starting out.

"You know what you must do! If we lay out the army as such, we might be able to defeat the darkness coming to attack us again…"

"Darkness is attacking us again?" Sabine stuttered, jumping to his feet. Saker stood up as well. Samuel, somewhat shakily, came back in the room.

"Um…" Ben Fin started. Page turned to him and gave him a stare which killed the rat watching behind him.

"I thought we were just going to keep it at an outside invader...not tell them about the Dueler."

"It...slipped out."

"Yes, it did. Sabine, please…we need…"

"All the more reason! I'll get every soldier I can find in my camp and the mountains and form the largest army ever from the Dwellers."

"I'll call in some old favors from the mercenary warlords in the mountains as well. I'm sure there are still a few highwaymen who will answer Saker's call."

"I'm will alert the Brightwall militia and start defensive measures. We will minimize casualties in Brightwall, that is, if you think it will help…"

"More than you can imagine. Now that everything's out in the open, we have proved that we defeated the darkness before, and we will defeat it again. Come, let us do our part," Ben said, raising his gun.

* * *

Garth slipped quietly through the castle gardens, the moon the only source of light over the dark courtyard. Garth noticed great statues of the famous Albion Heroes of old, including one of Sparrow, who stood vigil over the Southern garden. The statue of Logan was disturbing, and his sullen expression was only darkened by the poor lighting. Not that anything disturbed Garth, not since the Life-Eater struck Samarkand. _"Why do I have to keep reminding myself that?"_ he thought to himself.

Garth continued through the garden until he reached a small pavilion. Right below it was a set of stairs which no doubt led to the room Garth was looking for. He slipped quietly down the stairs and opened the door. As he continued, he found the tomb of Sparrow and his wife, but very far apart and revealing a path deeper into the ground.

"I remember this…this was a construction of the Hero's Guild. Lucien turned it into an escape route, which Sparrow no doubt claimed for himself. Now…let's see here," Garth followed the path through to a small fork, one of which led to a cove.

"This has to be what I'm looking for. This is where Lucien kept it. But how did we get in it?" Garth touched one of the broken pillars, then another. Nothing seemed visible from the outside. Garth looked at the pillar for a while before casting a spell on it, which had no effect. He blasted a nearby pillar with another spell, but it did nothing as well.

"What is the secret old friend?" He drew up a great deal of power, then created a huge fiery explosion around himself, but to no avail. Nothing changed.

"Dammit…" Garth looked around and saw nothing. He started out of the cove and to the path again.

"Maybe its further down," Suddenly, a small statue of a woman holding a candle lowered its arms to reveal a flit switch. It was red and glowing. Garth blasted it with a fireball and the statue shook and slowly moved back to reveal a drop.

"No stairs…Sparrow was really hiding this…alright, let's see what you've got down here…" Garth dropped down to a lower path, bracing his fall with a gust of air magic. The first thing he saw was the shining, shimmering mountain of gold which Sparrow had no doubt died with. But he also saw Sparrows main weapons, a rifle which was an unholy invention, marked with the words "Hal's Rifle," a large sword which Garth recognized as the Daichi, a weapon created in Samarkand, a hammer with a amethyst for a head, and a fireball gauntlet Sparrow had created for himself, the usual Heroes Guild symbol that was normally on the back of the hand replaced with a soaring sparrow.

"Wait a minute, Sparrow didn't need a gauntlet to cast magic either…or…ah, this tool enhances one's Will. Clever of you old friend," Garth took the gauntlet and held it in his hand.

"I'll lead some soldiers down here to recover this gold. The weapons I'll give directly to the Queen. It seems Sparrow was a truly vain man, hiding his weapons in a way even his children would not find," Garth said, shaking his head.


	10. Part 2: Chapter 4: King Louis III

Chapter 4

King Louis III and Gaston Steelheart

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the board of Reaver Industries, I am your Chief Executive Officer, Reaver. Applause is not necessary, but strongly recommended and appreciated." The members of the Reaver's new board cheered as the immortal laid his cane on the table.

"Now, not a single one of you knows anything about business, so let me explain to you how this is going to work. I will do whatever the hell I want, and you will make obscene amounts of money as I do it. Any objections?"

"Sounds good to me!" Boyle yelled out. However, Reaver released a sigh as the Brightwall citizen raised his hand.

"Mr. Reaver, how is it that we are gonna make money here, when Aurorans are migrating to Albion and taking good Alban jobs?" He hawked loudly and spat into the spittoon which he held in his lap, sending most the people sitting next to him scooting away. "_I seriously regret not mentioning banning spittoons," _Reaver thought.

"Frankly, that has absolutely nothing to do with whether you or I make money or not."

"Maybe not…but we are losing our jobs to those foreigners." The man raised his fist angrily. Reaver rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I'll make sure that our slave labor is majority Alban. Now let me explain, we are going to shift production from things such as horseshoes and fantastical contraptions to guns and cannons. We are shifting from commonplace to war ready. Understand?"

"But why Mr. Reaver?" One woman asked. Reaver drew a pistol and pointed it at her.

"Please hold all questions until the end of the presentation," Reaver shot the table right in front of the woman, making her and everyone around her draw back.

"Now, we'll produce these weapons, and then we make more money than before. Is everyone in agreement…yes…excellent, let's get to it then. See you in a month." Reaver waved halfheartedly as the group as he left the room. He hilted his pistol and started down the stairs, exiting the building to find a cool Bowerstone morning. He walked through the street, watching the city slowly come to life. Shops started to open, and sellers began yelling about good prices and a good economy. People began moving through the streets as the first shift bell rang out over the metropolis. Smoke belched from the towers of his factories and the first merchant ships began to scream out of their whistles and churn the waters of Bower Lake as they started toward Aurora or Westcliff. A thin overcast covered the sky, giving the day a sad appearance. Reaver scoffed at the thought and started toward the castle. _"Today will not be a sad, nor gentle day. Not if I have anything to say about it!"_

* * *

The Queen watched as the Godwin estate came into view. It was a distant and unattractive rock, little more than a large mansion towering over the waters. Its long path had been cleaned and its few roads rebuilt after the last of the Godwins had been removed. The estate was now used only as a formal meeting point between the Auroran provincial leader and other Albion province rulers. As the Queen started up the long path, Hobson and Jasper quickly moved behind the Queen, nervously watching for the horrific monsters Mary Godwin released onto the island. The Queen was far from worried about those monsters. A large entourage of guards followed them, and the Queen was a hero. None of Godwin's monstrous creations had been any threat when she first retook the island, and they would not threaten her today. The King of Francia was a much different question though. Known as the "Cruel Hero," he was greatly loved, and cared deeply for his nation, but was also suspected of taking random assassination contracts and brutally murdering a number of his own people, who would later be found to be plotting to against the Francian government. He also was rather promiscuous, frequenting brothels as often as he frequented his own bed, and had at least five children. Only one, a daughter was recognized as the heir of his country, but his oldest was also a member of the royal guard. Considered a rumor in most of Albion, there was also the story of a Francian who wielded a great hammer and was a Hero of Strength equal to the great Sister Hannah. This tiny amount of information about the Francian monarchy probably wouldn't help much, but information on the kingdom was meager at best. Albion and Francia had only had sparse contact since war between the two nations during the Purge of the Heroes.

"Your majesty, what are these creatures?" Hobson asked, starting to cower behind the Queen. She regained focus on her surroundings and stared at the strange zoo of the Godwin estate.

"This is a set of cages which keep creatures that are either incredibly rare or horribly twisted," The Queen explained. Hobson tried to straight up, but almost screamed as fell to the ground, tripping over an invisible chicken.

"I will not die here! Not without a pension!" Hobson yelled, drawing an ornately decorated pistol and firing wildly around him, sending most guards to cover and the Queen in shock.

"You can fight?"

"Your majesty…I must remind you the reason Heroes were defeated in so great a number was because the introduction of guns allowed even the most lackwit peasant to kill the strongest members of society," Jasper whispered. The Queen sighed and snatched the pistol from Hobson's hand.

"Leave the invisible chicken alone. It must have gotten out of the pen." The Queen felt around on the ground carefully for a few moments then found the chicken. It clucked calmly as the Queen carried it back to its pen. Hobson remained on edge through the rest of the zoo, and even up the final path to the main doors of the mansion. The debris from former battles on the grounds had been cleared out, and as the Queen's retainers journeyed up to the mansion, they saw lights shining from its windows.

"Everything looks ready…" The Queen said as she entered the room and saw the long negotiation table laid out. The last time the Queen had been in this part of the Goodwin estate, the table had been a lot smaller and had evidence of a hobbes party strewn around the room. The furniture was now more proper, though the Queen could see a steamer on the far end of the room someone had no doubt missed.

"Your majesty, it is good you made it unharmed." A guard came through the doors and saluted, then stepped aside, "Presenting, King Louis III and Gaston Steelheart, the King of Francia and the Hero Champion of the Foix Arena, respectively." King Louis entered prominently. He had long curly hair and a prominent crown. His long pointed nose and recessed eyes were a common trait of Francians, however, his crown was not. It was worked in the image of hammers linked head to haft, the hammerheads adorned with several jewels, but the most noticeable ones were the line of decorative opals which wound its way around his head. He had a long cloak marked with opals as well, and symbols of his country, Fleur de Les, were sewn all across the cloak. He had a sword at his side and a staff of royal prestige in his hand. To his side, the champion of Foix, and thusly champion of the Francian crown, had a large hammer on his back marked with dazzling gold lines and a Fleur de Les engraved on the head. The hero moved quickly behind him ruler and made no attempt to make himself known. He had recessed, bright blue eyes and pointed nose as well, but his hair was darker and he had a thick beard and mustache. The Queen went before King Francia and bowed, feeling her own deeply recessed brow and pasty white skin, a trait of her absolute goodness, as a tad bit unattractive compared to these two royal men. She was wearing a long purple dress and royal coat herself, but was not even close to as regal as these two.

"King of Francia, and champion of the same nation, it is an honor to meet you in person."

"And Queen of Albion! A woman of absolute purity. Meeting you is true pleasure; I only wish the circumstances were better," The King said, taking the woman's hand and kissing it. She began to blush, but brought Elliot to the front of her mind and remained faithful.

"I agree your Majesty. This is Jasper, my closest servant. He will be attending to our basic needs, such as water and food. And this is Hobson, my prime minister. He will be assisting in negotiations."

"Indeed, though I don't know how much there is to negotiate," Jasper quickly pulled the chairs on the ends of the table out, allowing the King of Francia and Queen of Albion to take their seats.

"Now, my King, I would ask you to explain yourself. Your fleets have attacked ours and you have raided Ravenscar keep, killing my guards and prisoners alike," Hobson asked, jumping right into negotiations before Jasper or anyone else could so much as straighten their clothing in the chairs.

"We are only fighting in self-defense," The King snapped back, suddenly a great deal less friendly. He turned to the Queen and stared at her, "Your monstrosities have attacked our nation. This dark creature we only know as the Dueler has begun to plague our southern and eastern borders, and now we are forced to fight back. It is our only hope of survival!" The King demanded, slamming his fist on the table. Hobson, sitting next to the Queen on her left side leaned back and sighed.

"You claim we have released a monster on your cities. Tell, what is this monster like?"

"It is a demon of great proportions. It leaves a slimy trail of darkness, eliminates armies with a single move, and it takes the form of a man with the legs of a spider, who conquers the minds of our allies. My generals have each succumbed to this evil one by one, and only Gaston remains, and the two of us cannot win this battle by ourselves!"

"Your armies cannot resist?"

"Our armies are not like yours, Mr. Hobson! We are a peaceful people, more focused on the advancement of art, science and exploration. There is little left for soldiers and horses. Our power lies with our great fleets. We are superior in naval strength to even Aurora, but we cannot use brute naval force to bring victory to armies bent on destroying us in our own land."

"And this half spider, half human, is somehow our work?" Hobson said, as if King Louis was a blathering child. This began to enrage the already flustered monarch.

"I promise you this, Minister Hobson," the King said the man's name with great loathing, "I have witnessed this creature with my own eyes, and it is very real, and very much a threat to our nation. And yes, it is the work of Alban or Auroran magic! Two years ago, your desert colony on Aurora, allowed dark slime and monsters of a similar shape to enter our country. These creatures only attacked Francians! Alban and Auroran citizens within our borders were left unscathed. We were barely able to resist them, but not before they killed our King, my father, Henry, and left me as a young king of a threatened nation. I mustered all the forces we could, but the second attack of this darkness never came. As the shipments began again between our countries, my merchants heard stories of those same monsters walking freely in your streets. You wish to take my land, so you have released them onto Francia and are letting them turn our once beautiful nation into a wasteland!" Hobson, Jasper, and the Queen all were in shock. Jasper shook his head, almost shaking with fear.

"The Crawler is back you majesty. This time it's coming out of Francia!" Jasper yelled, barely setting a cup of tea on the table before he grabbed something to steady himself.

"It cannot be…not again!" Hobson said, nervously rubbing his hands together. The Queen waved her hand to them then looked at the King.

"Your Majesty, this darkness you have seen and fought is not of our doing, or our creation. This darkness attacked us, just as it attacked you, and is no doubt planning to invade again," She explained. The King cocked an eyebrow as he watched her.

"You are telling me that these monsters are your enemy, as they are mine?"

"Yes. Your defeat is a defeat for Albion as much as it is for Francia. The Crawler is our enemy, just as it is yours."

"I am not sure I believe you."

"We suffered greatly at the hands of the Crawler. I had to make many difficult choices to keep as many alive as possible, but I lost many good soldiers at the hands of this monster! I saved my citizens, and I can save yours, if you would allow us to help you."

"Why should I trust you?" The Queen sighed at this challenge, and stood, tired of the King's lack of cooperation.

"…you have two options. You said it yourself, your navy can't invade Albion alone. By yourself, you'll surely be defeated, and fighting us will only serve to weaken your forces, and mine, allowing this..."Dueler"... to claim both of our lands even quicker, or you can take my offer of assistance, and together, we might just stand a chance. It is, of course, your choice, but know that we will fight to the last man for our nation, against this new threat...and you," the Queen stared down King Louis as she said this, causing him to lean back in his chair, stroking his hairless chin.

"You cannot expect me to surrender our beliefs so easily."

"I see little option for you, your Majesty. Surely you see the difficulty of your sad, weak nation's position," Hobson answered.

"Gaston, strike him!" The King yelled. The Queen stood up and threw her hand over Hobson's mouth, but also drew her sword holding it toward the King.

"Your majesty, please, my associate is not always proper in speech, but he is making a fair point. We are both in difficult positions to be making a great deal of demands. I promise you this; we stand a much better chance as a combined force against whatever darkness strikes at your nation than as warring ones," King Louis leaned back and remained silent for a long time, watching the Queen closely. Finally, he came forward again and ran his hand over his face.

"…You're right. I knew, in my heart, that so honorable and good a lady would not strike us in such an underhanded way. I see now that your honor and graciousness are far more than I could have ever imagined. I propose an alliance between our nations. I will cease attacks on your ships, and begin ferrying supplies and naval equipment to your shores. In turn, Albion's armies must come to Francia to support us against this darkness," The King said, an extreme reversal of his opinion none in the room were ready for. The Queen smiled then hilted her sword and pushed Hobson back into his chair.

"I will promise this to you. Come, let us go to my capital, and there we might achieve victory over this monster," The Queen said, holding out a hand. The King of Francia reached forward and took it, then turned to his champion, a thin smile forming on his face "Are you ready to visit Bowerstone Gaston?"

"As you command my liege."

* * *

"Here you are, the Reliquary. Now, if you can find a Guild Seal, I can help you open the door. However, without a Guild Seal, this door is shut," said Samuel, holding several bags, a stack of books and wearing a hat. He looked worriedly at the sun's height outside, then back at Ben Finn and Page, no doubt hoping to make it out of Brightwall before nighttime.

"Ben, do you think one of the statues…" Page said as they began investigating the room.

"Wait here." Ben went to his pack and took out the book.

"This should have what we're looking for." Ben flipped through a couple pages and found a picture of the seal. He pointed at it, to which Page nodded.

"I see, so that's a guild seal."

"Yes, and here is where I shall place it, if you can find one," Samuel said, pointing to the spot where the Guild Seal fit on the door.

"We need something that goes there."

"But…why would you believe that old King Sparrow would leave such a thing in the library? I thought he carried it around with him at all times."

"I think he may have prepared a way for his children to find a way through," Ben started to look over the many books, searching for some clue. Page checked the corners of the room, then turned to the armor.

"Are you sure it doesn't have something to do with these?" Page said, leaning close to the metal figure.

"Yes, that would be far too obvious! Besides, if I'm not incorrect, this is Garth's armor, not King Sparrow's..."

"But look at this. This piece looks strange. Almost like…the gauntlet has been tampered with."

"What are you talking about…?" Ben turned around and went to Page, who touched the weapon, "There's nothing wrong with this sword, and it looks like all the other swords here!"

"But…it doesn't fit the armor…" Page grabbed the glove of the armor and wrenched it free, held it up. A mixed color object rolled out of the glove and into her hand. It was a tiny sphere with the marks of a guild seal. Samuel almost jumped back in amazement.

"What is it?" Ben asked, staring intently at the ball.

"Its…it's a Guild Seal marker!" Samuel yelled in excitement, pushing Ben aside, "It was a tool granted to heroes when they came of age to mark their weapons! Combining one with a weapon or tool will make it heroic. By the gods, this is rarer than all the books our library." Samuel signaled, with a great deal of worry, to have the small sphere. Page dropped it into his hand. The old librarian carefully walked to the door and touched the small ball to the door. Slowly, the contraptions and workings of the door moved and turned, and ultimately opened to reveal the halls of the reliquary.

"I can't believe it. Such a magnificent piece of ancient history inside our old rusty armor the whole time. Quickly! Check the other gloves!" Samuel commanded, sounding like a young man again. Page and Ben Finn looked quickly through the other armor, but found nothing. However, Ben stopped after looking at one and noticed the evidence of tampering again.

"This one looks like it was searched already," Ben said, lifting a finger on one of the gauntlets and seeing marks of recent movement.

"Then perhaps someone took one and made a heroic weapon out of it?"

"But who would be smart enough to find and know how to work such a device, yet dastardly enough to take it?" The three of them looked at each other, each with a personal hatred for a single man developing. They screamed his name in unison.

"Reaver!"


	11. Part 2: Chapter 5: In Peril

Chapter 5

In Peril

"All hail the return of their majesties, the Queen of Albion, and the King of Francia!" A soldier called from the gate of Bowerstone castle. A huge crowd had gathered in the courtyard, and cheered wildly as the Queen stepped down from her regal, purple, carriage. Hobson and Jasper followed, and then their carriage moved away, replaced by the luxurious blue and white carriage of the Francians. King Louis stepped boldly from doorway, his arm out wide, and his cloak flowing behind him. The people jumped and screamed in excitement. He stepped slowly from the steps and behind him, quiet and like a shadow, the large and powerful champion of Francia followed him. The Queen turned back to the castle and was met by her husband, Prince Elliot, who was standing with Reaver and Garth. Elliot took her hand and kissed it, leading to a round of fawning by those in court. Soldiers saluted, and the Queen, taking Eliiot's hand, led her entourage and allies into Bowerstone castle. The people continued to cheer as they left. Some citizens were so audacious as to cry, "Albion is saved!" and "With our Queen, we cannot fail!"

The Queen walked past the throne room turned into the war room, where Kalin and some other provincial governors bowed to the Queen. Garth and Reaver stood in the room as well, along with the new commander of the Albion army, General Drusus, who saluted proudly. He was a tall man with an air of rigidness about him, and was known for his punctuality and exactness. He had been the commander of the army in Southcliff during the Crawler's incursion and had successfully repelled the creature's attacks and actually began moving on the offensive before the Queen finally defeated the monster. He was dressed in true soldier's uniform save his hat, which was an old guard cap, traditionally worn by soldiers stationed in the Bloodstone peninsula. He wore a sword at his side, an obsidian blade from the days of the Hero of Oakvale, a precious family heirloom he had called it, and held a swagger stick. The Queen noticed Jasper smiling as he put the stick to his side and turned to his ruler.

"Your majesty, to have you back is an honor I cannot easily describe," Drusus said proudly.

"I could not agree more. We need the Queen's leadership in this crisis, for only she truly knows how best defeat such a creature," Kalin said, raising her hands and making wide motions as she spoke.

"You all know then?"

"Yes, Garth has informed us and begun to mobilize the army," Drusus said. The Queen turned to Garth, who remained unemotional.

"I have provided reasonable evidence, along with a variety of plans in the case of several different invasions. It would help if there were Will-users in your army but I find them rarer then diamonds in Albion," The Samarkander said coldly. He moved to a map of Albion and laid several pieces of paper before the monarch.

"Not saying that this is unhelpful. But how did you gain such tactical knowledge?"

"I became the acting leader of Samarkand during the time of the Life-Eater's invasion there. I learned such tactics through trial and error, and unfortunately, each error cost many lives. However, I predict that Albion can beat back such an attack without great difficulty this time. And my associate would be happy to explain why," Garth said, signaling Reaver. The smiling immortal tapped his cane then pointed to the window, out of which the smokestacks of Bowerstone Industrial were visible.

"I have shifted the entirety of my factories output into weapons. Pistols, rifles, cannons, swords, ammunition, armor, and what have you. At our current pace, we shall be able to arm your many soldiers within the span of two weeks, maybe sooner! And, as my horrid acquaintance demanded, free of charge to her majesty! However, I must make money myself, and to achieve this, some of the supplies will be available for purchase by select members of society willing to fight for the kingdom!"

"…I appreciate it, but perhaps arming civilians isn't…"

"Your majesty, if I may be so bold?" Hobson interjected, pushing around the Queen and turning to the immortal, "How exactly did you plan to provide the monetary means to supply this venture? While you're generous and gracious donations are no doubt a boon to our meager treasury, the royal funds cannot possibly hope to cover the cost of food, army payments and general salaries."

"Meager? Hah! I'd say that funding this war will be an easy task for a treasury that full," Reaver said with a laugh.

"What are you saying? When we left we had no more than two million gold on hand, barely enough to keep our government in function, much less managing an army of the size…"

"Have you seen the treasury since then?"

"No but…" Hobson's began to glare at Reaver then turned around and went into the treasury room before screaming at the top of his lungs. The Queen and her allies rushed in after him, and there, piles of gold, more than was even used for the war with the Crawler, were stacked up to the ceiling. Hobson was rolling in the money, in a delirious state. The Queen rubbed her eyes, then upon recognizing the realness of the gold, turned to Garth and Reaver, struggling to form words.

"How did you…you…how…"

"It was a gift of your father's, one of the last ones you'll likely find. In the escape route behind his grave, there lies a small cavern which led to this pile of gold, and several of his great weapons, including the Flame Gauntlet, a tool used by Sparrow to strengthen his magical attacks fourfold. I also found his gun, sword, and hammer all ready for use as well."

"This is unbelievable. My father assists me from the grave, and I must thank him properly for it…and you and Reaver too. With this kind of financial support and weapons, we'll have no trouble in victory." The Queen walked to the hammer and grabbed it, then turned around and handed it to Drusus.

"This is for you, my general, so that your leadership never falters."

"I swear on my life it shall not your majesty."

"And this, this sword will go to the nation of Francia. It is the symbol of our allegiance, which is promised to you."

"Thank you your majesty," the King said smiling, taking the weapon. He drew it from its scabbard, revealing a Samarkandian katana.

"The Dachi, your majesty…" Garth said with a nod. King Louis looked at it closely then turned to the Queen.

"Francia and Albion will be allied against this monster. Together, we will not fail!" He held the sword high. The provincial leaders cheered and the Queen turned to Reaver and Garth, who stood behind their majesty.

"Only one more issue remains. What will you two do?"

"Your majesty?"

"Assuming that Page and Ben Finn are preparing eastern Albion, and Drusus and I will defend western Albion, where are you two going? Reaver disappeared last time the darkness struck. Should I expect you to run again?"

"No! Your majesty, I would never…"

"We will fight, and though it may not seem like it, we will both always support you," Garth said, nodding. Reaver sighed, then nodded quickly in support of his ally.

"Thank you, both."

* * *

"My god, what is this?" Page asked, in awe as she followed Ben through the high tunnels of the Reliquary. They turned another corner only to find more caves, continually getting deeper into the ancient ruins of the Old Kingdom.

"This is quite something, but I think we can make it. Look, if you go this way, then, assuming we don't run into more hollow men, then we might be able to find…" Ben turned to his left and pointed to an arena area. Four hollow men burst from their graves and started to shuffle toward the two. Ben drew his rifle and Page took her sword and twirled it wildly.

"Alright, I promise this is the last set of hollow men we'll find," Ben said, backing up from the approaching zombies.

"Just fight dammit!" Page rushed the first hollow man and destroyed the creature with one slash to its skull. Ben took aim and destroyed two hollow men with one shot. Page twirled and broke the legs of the last one, then stabbed it through its chest and destroyed it.

"Where are these monster's coming from?" Ben said, sheathing his gun and resting against a boulder.

"These have to be arenas of the Old Kingdom. They must have tested Heroes in these arenas."

"Or for executing them," Page said, noting the human skeleton in the corner with obvious marks of hacking. Ben shook his head, then started away, almost depressed by the sight. They followed through several other halls, and Page continued to become agitated.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Page asked, looking up at the cavern top.

"I know what I am doing; I am a son of the greatest hero of strength." Ben looked to his left, and saw a hallway with a bluish glow.

"There it is, the hall of Sister Hannah!" Ben said, pointing down the hall. Page simply rubbed her eyes, unable to believe Ben was right. They stepped slowly into the walkway, Ben leading. He lowered his gun as he moved toward a shining robe, Page by his side the whole time.

"What is this…" Page said, somewhat dumbstruck.

"The robe of my mother! The Robe of Sister Hannah. It gives a wielder a veil of absolute goodness." Ben reached out slowly and grabbed the cloth. He put it over his body and pulled the hood over his head. Page looked at the tomb of Hammer and touched its words. They were strange letters which looked like complex shapes to her.

"The last hero of strength, my predecessor, a hero of strength to which there has been no equal."

"Am I supposed to feel something?" The cloak, obviously too big for Ben, laid loosely around his body. He lifted his hand, to which the sleeve slipped down to his elbow. He turned his head, which sent the hood down past around his face, which made him more flustered.

"Darn it! What is the secret here? I don't feel anything!"

"Wait…I think I know what this is…Ben, you still read the Old Language, right?" Page asked.

"Some…" Ben said, one eye visible behind the hood, "Not well, but I could give you the gist." Ben leaned forward and, with Page's help, pulled the cloak off himself.

"Good grief, that cloak was doing nothing for me. Now, what're we looking at…" Ben moved to look at his mother's tomb and started to murmur to himself as the cloak in Page's hand started to glow.

"Um…Ben…"

"Hold on…Evrit coleti oman…Gonro lize o pali…Sister Hannah…holding…something…Hammer maybe? Stick…no struck enemies in thousands…or a single man alone…" Ben said, still muttering. Page tried to put the cloak down, but it would not leave her hand. Its cloth started to wrap around her arm, forming a sleeve on her.

"Ben…I think I need some help."

"Hammer…called was she…uh… found herself…striking… greatest enemy…ever. God I hate the old language. Many died and only few were…saved, but at the last…one became a powerful, no too powerful. Hammer learned to see into a heart and siege her enemies' oldness … no see of her enemies' weakness…donning the cloak and whispering…"

"Whispering what?" Page said wildly, starting to float and being engulfed by this robe.

"Schenzeriz? I don't know, this looks like it's almost in a different language. Maybe Samarkander…"

"Schenzeriz!" Page screamed. The cloak's hood flew over her head and she was consumed by its power. Her eyes turned pure white and marks of goodness formed on her face. Ben turned around and screamed loudly.

"Page!" He yelled, grabbing her arm.

Page was sailing through the sky, stars and darkness flying past her. She could barely keep her eyes open, yet, the force pushing against her prevented her from closing them if she had wanted to. She suddenly stopped in a sunny and sandy land, at the base of what appeared to be the Spire, except it was sandstone and had a white, shining top. She suddenly sped to its top, where a man was sitting cross-legged on the flat top of the tower, facing away from her. Page fell onto it and looked up to see his face, but he remained still.

"Hello…"

"Page!" The man barked, in a voice which sounded almost identical to Garth. It wasn't Garth though; this kind of speech was unlike him

"Who are you?" The man turned his head slightly, and with the wave of a hand, the tower began to shift. The top turned 180˚ and soon the man was standing in front of the sun. He turned completely to reaval himself to be a very old, thick beard man wearing only a long white desert cloak. He had a scar through his left eye also, but, unlike Garth, this eye was functioning and focused with the other on her.

"I am your grandfather, the father of Garth, Galba, and Kelan, who is your father. I speak as an old Priest of Samarkand, and ask for your forgiveness Page. I have gained immortal life, but I am tasked with the duty of watching over the people of Samarkand from this tower, 'The Mnara,' unable to touch, but with the ability to influence. Therefore, I cannot stop the Dueler as I wish I could for my son and my granddaughter."

"How…did I contact you?"

"The robe of Sister Hannah brought you to the one you most need. If you come to me on the Mnara, I am to answer your three most pressing questions. I believe I answered the first. You are, indeed, the daughter of Kelan. Garth is your uncle, and I your grandfather,"

"My father…"

"Accepting this is not a choice, but a duty. You will not succeed if you cannot trust Garth."

"I will try…but if you cannot stop the Dueler…can you speak of it? "

"The monster is real, and coming to Albion. The invasion of Samarkand by the Life-eater was a process with the singular goal of eventually reaching Albion with an army of darkness. This is the Dueler's goal. It assaults Francia so that it might get at Albion."

"Why are these creatures attacking us?"

"This I cannot for certain say, however, know that the one commanding the Dueler, was the same who commander the Life-Eater and the Crawler. Also know that one among you has fed the monster's lust, though inadvertently."

"Reaver, dammit!" Page said, stomping her foot.

"Yes, but do not let the good of the many be subject to your anger. If you wish to stop the darkness from attacking Albion, you must defeat it and its master, and the only way to do so is with Reaver's help. Now, your final question to be answered," the man sucked in a deep breath, paused, then spoke, "Garth has emptied his hall of everything of value, but, if you wear the cloak and touch the tomb of her husband, Kieran, his pistol, a special weapon Hammer brought from the Northern Wastes, is in their tomb. Now go, child of my son. Make our family proud, and wield the heroic power gifted to me by my mother. Do what you must, but until you fall in battle or succeed in peace, this robe will remain with you and help you contact me."

"Thank you, grandfather." Page was dramatically dragged back into reality, where she awoke lying with Ben sitting over her, doting on her every move.

"Ben…"

"Page." Ben grabbed her hand. She stood up slowly and touching her sleeve, which seemed to be all that remained of the cloak, she felt the warmth of goodness, similar to the warmth of Garth's will lines. She turned mechanically toward Kieran's tomb, and touching it, a small dais with a pistol on it lifted from behind the grave. She went to the weapon and took it. It was a beautiful golden weapon with a sword like grip and a complex firing sequence which looked to be almost old kingdom technology. She handed it to Ben, who held it cautiously.

"…Here…" Page said slowly, regaining her consciousness.

"Uh, what is this Page?"

"A legendary pistol…it belonged to your father."

"What do I . . . never mind. I appreciate it," Ben answered, taking the pistol and reaching for her hand. Page, after much struggle, went to the doorway and pulled her sword free from its scabbard, reclaiming full control of her body.

"We must go to the capital. The Dueler is targeting Albion, and if it's targeting Albion, it will target Bowerstone first!"

"Then we must get to the castle! We must gather what forces we can and get to Bowerstone as quickly as physically possible," Ben said, racing past Page, Harriet's Rifle in one hand, Kieran's pistol in the other, "Come on, we've got a monarch to defend," Ben commanded.

"Ben…" Page said as he reached out and grabbed Ben's hand.

"Yes Page?" Ben said, turning back to the woman.

"I love you," Page said, pulling him close and kissing him passionately. They were locked for several moments before he finally broke off.

"I love you too, Page…" Ben said, pulling her head close to his.


	12. Part 2 : Chapter 6: War!

Chapter 6

War!

The Queen opened her eyes suddenly, feeling a sense of being late. She rolled over and looked at Elliot, who was breathing gently in the bed. Despite Elliot's mostly ceremonial duties, he also seemed to remain calm during all situations, even during the invasion of the Crawler.

"Elliot…" she whispered, touching his face. He opened his eyes slowly and smiled at the site of her.

"Hello beautiful," he said, leaning forward and kissing her softly.

"I love you…I want you to know that."

"Don't talk like that, you will succeed. You always have, and you always will. You rescued me, you killed the assassin, hell, you stopped the greatest threat Albion has faced since Jack of Blades. You will win…" Elliot lifted his hand from the warm sheets and touched her face. His naked chest was barely exposed, and his long slender arm was magnificent without its normal princely sleeve he had on it otherwise. She took his hand and kissed it, closing her eyes deeply at the warmth on her face.

"I love you…so much Elliot…"

"Your majesty!" the Queen's eyes snapped open, lifting her mostly exposed form and looking at the closed door. She then recognized the voice as Jasper and sighing, responded.

"Yes Jasper?"

"You have visitors."

"Who is it?"

"A rather annoying advocate of financial responsibility and a certain mage who seems to have become attached to him. They wish to speak with you before the King of Francia and his champion arrive for the war meeting today."

"Alright, prepare the war room." The Queen moved away from her husband and started toward her closet when she heard something.

"What?" The monarch of Albion turned around to Elliot, who lifted himself from the bed, wearing only undergarments.

"I haven't said anything darling."

"I thought I heard…" The Queen turned back to the closet, but then heard the voice, this time much clearer.

"Your majesty…you will fall…"

"What? Fall?"

"Dear…what are you saying?" Elliot said, pulling pants on himself.

"I'm hearing a voice…a…"

"The Hero Queen of Albion! Hah! You will be buried under the force of our great darkness. Your kingdom and lands will cease to exist. Sand will be all that remains, and you will before forced to watch as, at last, Albion is defeated. I will avenge my kin, and your pathetic armies and heroes will be crushed as Varus was…" The Queen heard this from almost inside her head, a pounding thunderous noise overtaking her thoughts.

"What's going on?" The Queen yelled, grabbing her sword from the closet. For an instance, she swore she saw a monster like the crawler, except its upper body was attached to a spider's lower body, but then she looked again and couldn't see anything.

"Are you okay, dear?" Elliot yelled, running to his wife. He cautiously pulled her sword hand down and tried to calm her. She rubbed her head then allowed the sword to fall from her hand.

"Varus…"

"What is it?"

"Something…that I need clarified. Quickly, Elliot, please call another meeting of our provincial leaders. I need the Duke of Southcliff and the Mayor of Bloodstone's full support. I think the plans of defense need a slight tweaking…" The Queen said, very distantly.

"Well, my dear, as you know, I cannot fight, but I will do what I can. I will keep the provinces in line, this much I can promise," Elliot said. The Queen turned to admire the prince, his stately figure, his regal motions, his royal purple and blue cloak. He seemed born for the job, despite his humble upbringings as a child of Bowerstone Market hired to serve her father. Elliot had done everything he could to erase his past, however, and even championed a law declaring that their oldest son, Zachary, had to marry a noble to maintain his title as heir of the kingdom of Albion, or lose it to his brother Lloyd or sister Katharine. Elliot was a sight to behold, and the Queen couldn't imagine spending her life with any other man. Somewhere, a woman Elliot had married during the revolution was alone without her husband or, at least, without Elliot as her husband, but this woman's problems were no more important than those of the rest of Albion. _"Without Elliot,"_The Queen thought _"I don't think I could survive most day to day activities, much less another Crawler attack. Her sacrifice is for the greater good!"_The Queen shook her head as she stepped past several servants toward the main hall. _"Why was I thinking about her? I haven't thought about her in months."_The Queen stopped before Garth and Reaver, who were standing near a painting in the front of the castle, discussing something. _"Doesn't matter, I've got a nation to save."_The Queen cleared her throat and gained the attention of the two men.

"Gentlemen, please go to the war room. I'll meet you there shortly. I plan to invite another guest to our meeting, if you don't mind," Garth nodded in response, then the two men started toward up the nearby stairs. The Queen looked to the castle gardens, grabbing her ponytail with a great deal of anxiety.

"Varus…he must mean General Varus of the Second army, and Drusus's former comrade. Which means I need to speak with the general immediately."

"Saker!" Ben called, running down the thin path from the Mistpeak mountains. Saker had an army of mercenaries, with a column of Dwellers behind it; most armed with knives or shortswords and there were even a few with farm equipment. Ben specifically recognized some of the mercenaries as the lowliest and worst men he'd ever had the misfortune of encountering on his patrols of the valley.

"Ah! Benjamin Finn! Is this not glorious sight? A mercenary-Dweller army, the grungiest, filthiest members of our modern society, marching to save our kingdom from an enemy no other army is brave enough to face. How could life get better?" Saker yelled, grabbing Ben's arm and smiling widely.

"Yes, I see that, but we must pick up the pace. We've got to get as many soldiers as we can to Bowerstone as quickly as possible," Ben said, looking over the army and silently noting its filth and grunge.

"Now, Mr. Finn, this is not one of your trained armies. These men need time and incentive to fight. I've promised them plenty of enemies and a large monetary sum as you suggested, but making them march at that speed will weaken an already shaky morale."

"I…understand, but we've got to pick it up, or well be…the Dueler is going straight for Bowerstone. We've got to get to the city as quickly as we can!"

"And this army will be there, don't worry," Saker said with a nod. Page arrived behind Ben, who was sighing deeply.

"I appreciate your dedication Saker," Ben said through his teeth.

"Ben, he can't go faster. Sabine and Saker will keep the east under control. The Dueler won't be able to use this path to get to Bowerstone."

"Sabine is already on his way to the castle. He transferred control of the Dweller camp to the General of the Fourth Corps…which is you, General Finn," Saker responded, then took a long puff of his cigar.

"The Dweller camp?"

"He said he committed a similar action during the War of the Crawler. He claims he'd rather die as a war hero than a weak, old king on his throne."

"When the Crawler attacked, I was General of the First Corps, not the Fourth. I don't remember this at all." Ben said, scratching his head.

"I was General of the Fifth. I recall a strange transfer of power by Sabine…and he fought with us at the capital, don't you remember?" Page looked at Ben, who was staring into the distance. Page waited a moment, then touched his arm.

"Ben, are you listening?"

"Page, quick! There's a cavalry unit incoming." Ben drew his gun and pointed it in the direction of a dust cloud which was approaching them. Page drew her holy weapon, and Saker lit a bottle of liquor. Ben held his weapon carefully to his face, waiting until he could make out a single unit. As soon as he saw it wasn't an undead cavalry or some other unholy being, Ben lowered his weapon and held up his fist to signal the other soldiers to do the same. Finally, the three hundred and fifty or so cavalry, all wearing long dark grey chainmail and a long purple cape, came into sight. Their horses were covered in the thick chainmail too, giving them the appearing of the ancient hero knights of the Eastern Kingdoms. Which was, as Ben presumed, where they had to come from.

"Soldiers of Albion's army," The captain of the knights said in a harsh but understandable dialect.

"I am a General in the Alban army! Who wishes to treat with the soldiers of our kingdom?" Ben said, standing to full attention and presenting himself in a ceremonial fashion. The captain of the knights dismounted his horse and walked up to Ben. He took off his helmet and revealed himself to be a young man with tan skin and thin mustache, traits of the people of the Eastern Kingdom.

"I am Captain Corada, leader of the Castilian knights. Castile is the autonomous province across the mountains. The governor, known to us as a king, is loyal to Albion and proudly sends soldiers to fight. I am the leader of those soldiers."

"How many are you?"

"This is the professional cavalry. Our drafted army equates to almost 10 thousand men, of which half are marching to the capital to give relief, with a thousand cavalry men under my command. Castile is going to war as demanded by the Queen."

"Well, two autonomous provinces have fallen into line. It seems we may be more unified than we thought," Ben said thoughtfully. Page grabbed his arm, smiling. Ben looked at her then to her arm, which had a tight cloth representing the holy cloak wrapped from her shoulder to her wrist.

"Death and destruction tends to bring people together, even strange bed-fellows. Captain Corada, do you have spare horses?" Page askedn

"Indeed, two riders have fallen ill. You may use their mounts." Corada whistled and waved. A soldier brought two horses, both covered in chainmail. Page took the first, which had brown hair beneath its armor, and Ben took the second, which he saw was a white mare through the mail. It neighed gently as he pulled it to him, then he hauled himself onto it. It reared up and almost threw Ben off, before he grabbed the reins and got the animal back under control.

"Come on Ben, aren't all soldiers required to know how to ride?" Page, said, pulling her mount to stand next to Ben.

"Yes, it's…just been a while." Ben kicked the stir-ups and the animal took off, leaving Page with the cavalry.

"A long while I see. Captain…let's ride!" Page reared her horse intentionally, then started off, followed the Castilian cavalry. Behind them, Saker's army continued to march, its soldiers fading in the distance.

"Gentlemen, you may be wondering why I invited General Drusus to our meeting," The Queen said. She stood at one side of a map of Albion, with Garth, Reaver, and Drusus on the other sides.

"He is supreme commander of your forces. I see no reason why he would not be included in a war meeting," Garth said coldly. Reaver smiled at the mage, no doubt admiring his ability to remain disconnected.

"Alright, well the reason is that during the war of the Crawler, Drusus was stationed in the city of Southcliff with the Sixth Corps, while his close friend, Varus, General of the Second Corps, was stationed slightly to the north, in the city of Bloodstone, representing the two main armies in the Bloodstone peninsula."

"Yes, your majesty. Varus also had the sizable force of seven thousand men under his command, while I had a much smaller fifty-five hundred soldiers. However, we both thought we had more than sufficient forces to 'resist' the Crawler," Drusus explained.

"Well, General Drusus, I'd like you to describe your account of Varus and his death in Bloodstone."

"…begging your pardon ma'am, but surely you have read my reports."

"Yes, but our new allies have not. If you would…"

"…Yes ma'am…" Drusus cleared his voice, then began to speak, "As most citizens of Albion know, the Second Corps, more commonly known as the Sparrow's Corps, is actually the original army Sparrow used to unify the nation. Therefore, command of it passes only to the most powerful and honorable families of Bloodstone, which, despite King Sparrow's cleanup effort, isn't saying much. Anyway, Varus's family was the best Bloodstone could offer, his wealthy father and uncle controlled half of the city's retail, and his other uncle had been the General of the Corps in the much earlier Castilian War. The point of this is, Varus was the only real choice for the job…or so he believed. However, as you know your majesty, he was passed over for a different kind of general." Drusus turned to Reaver, who looked at him with an unassuming smile.

"Reaver was offered the position first, which, despite his rejection and Varus' eventual ascendance to the position, left the young, new general frustrated and with a need to prove himself."

"Oh dear, I hope I don't carry any blame for the death of this man," Reaver said, as he touched his heart with a fake look of worry.

"Of course not. A general's goal can't be to earn a promotion. Varus needed to deal with his personal ambition properly, which he failed to."

"Drusus, would you continue with the tale of his downfall."

"Ahem, yes your majesty. The point of this is that Varus felt a need to prove himself. As the Crawler's forces crashed brutally onto our peninsula and overwhelmed my forces in the southern cities, it turned sharply north and went right past Southcliff, going first for Bloodstone. Varus saw his chance. He felt quite safe with his huge Second Corps, which was basically untouched by the first assault. However, he didn't like the condition of Bloodstone's defenses."

"The Crawler struck the Bloodstone Peninsula?" Garth asked, pointing to the peninsula on the map.

"Well, this map is slightly inaccurate in the exact placement of Aurora. Really, Southcliff is a short trip from Aurora. It's even shorter from the tip of the Auroran desert to the tip of the Bloodstone peninsula. Anyway, as the Crawler prepared to attack Bloodstone in force, Varus suddenly demanded Bloodstone be evacuated, sending a quarter of his army with the civilian population into the Bloody Mountains. He left the rest of his army in Bloodstone, where he assumed he could fight without restriction as long as the civilian population was gone. This is a reasonable theory, but the Crawler could obviously see what was happening, and turned some of its dark paths toward the mountains, in pursuit of the civilians, while pointing others toward Bowerstone itself."

"The dark strategic genius is impossible to predict in these creatures. Many in Samarkand thought brute force could defeat the Life-Eater. It took several terrible tactical blunders and thousands of deaths to prove how wrong that was," Garth said, shaking his head.

"And Varus made his greatest one here. Once he had sent his citizens to the mountains, the Crawler did not have the commitment nor time to search out these civilians in the mountains. The commanders had ingeniously split their army and civilians in many small groups and had them move throughout the mountains. The Bloodstone Range was covered with civilians, each seemingly moving in a different direction. The Crawler may have picked off a few groups, but could not have tried any serious offensive against them. However, Varus did not agree, and moved his army out of the safety of the city and engaged the darkness. In a show of tactical skill, the Crawler actually allowed his dark creatures to be defeated in several skirmishes, ultimately feigning a rout, which Varus followed like a fool in the dark."

"And once the Crawler lead him into Wraithmarsh, the Second Corps became easy prey," The Queen finished, looking back Reaver. The immortal put his hand on his heart again.

"I hope you aren't blaming this on me either! I foresaw a lot of things when I destroyed Oakvale, but certainly not one of the corps becoming trapped there."

"No, you don't own blame for this. But once the corps was surrounded in such poor terrain it was wiped out."

"And Varus was not just killed. They claim that Varus was replaced by a pretended, who transformed into the monster and slaughtered his own men. The real Varus eventually fought this false monster and was slain by the monster's own hand, or so a distraught survivor explained to me," The Queen recounted.

"Yes…the tale is horrid."

"And only getting worse. This morning, as I awoke, the Dueler contacted me, and said I would fall as Varus did."

"It spoke to you?" Reaver said in shock, drawing back ever so slightly.

"This has occurred to me as well. I had many a discussion with the Life-Eater," Garth said, rubbing his forehead.

"I believe however, that the arrogance of the Dueler has given us the advantage. He has revealed his plan by calling me Varus. I believe he means to attack the peninsula again, and this time, I think he hopes we'll be less ready than we were before."

"Surely he wouldn't attack the exact same place?" Garth asked, turning to Reaver, who rubbed his hands together nervously.

"Of course, your majesty! Why had I not seen it before? They will certainly attack again because it is the opposite of what we'd expect. The Dueler and its kind are both arrogant and tactical geniuses. Such a plan is easily believable. We must prepare!" Drusus started to leave the room with the Queen.

"No, you are reading too quickly into this!" Garth tried to stop the two. The Queen turned to Garth quickly.

"What do you think he means?"

"…perhaps he means to have you evacuate Bowerstone in response to a siege, and trap you at Mourningwood." Garth said after a moment of thought.

"No, that is too simple. Maybe a foolish general would commit such an error, but not her majesty. Besides, the darkness cannot commit such a move, for it cannot use siege engines."

"You are likely right, but this threat could have many interpretations. We cannot jump to such a conclusion!"

"You're right Garth. Drusus, take half the first army and make sure nothing comes into Alban territory through the peninsula. The rest…" The Queen turned to Garth and Reaver, "will go under the command of the Generals of the First and Fifth Corps, if they accept the promotion." Reaver, obviously on the edge of refusing turned to Garth, waiting his response. Garth sighed and saluted.

"If it is her majesty's will…"


	13. Part 2 : Chapter 7: Sanctuary

Chapter 7

Sanctuary

Ben Finn and Page struggled to keep up with the riders. Despite the equally agile and powerful horses they bounced on, they could not ride at the grueling pace the Castilians rode at. Captain Corada had noticed this for some time, and, after passing through a small farming village, ordered the mass of riders to slow to a trot.

"Slow! Steady!" Captain Corada yelled, then turned and rode back to Page and Ben, who had visible sweat on their faces.

"We'll rest here until dusk. We want to be moving when the darkness falls," The captain said, dismounting his horse and directing tent layouts.

"And again we have to sleep during the day, and ride all night. Goodness…" Ben said, rubbing his head. He lowered himself slowly from his horse, his every muscle aching. As he was stretching, Page went to a small patch of thin grass and started to set up a tent. Ben soon joined her, and eventually they prepared a place for them to stay for the day.

"Ah, yes, excellent, you've got your tent up. As you can see, it is different trying to ride with a Castilian than one of your pathetic Alban Cavalry units, if you can call them cavalry." Captain Corada walked up to Ben and dropped a pile of firewood in front of the tent. He cleared away a circle of brush and started preparing a fire.

"It is a strange experience, trying to avoid the darkness by riding by night…" Page said, trailing off thoughtfully.

"Actually, while it makes great sense with today's threats, this was actually a tactic our cavalry uses regularly. It prevents our enemies from catching us blind, for they are easy to see during the day, while allowing us to find them without preparation, as we are trained to battle at night, though we must still be cautious for the sake of our mounts."

"Unfortunately that won't do much against our foes, for wherever the Crawler went, he was followed by unending night," Ben said, sitting down next to the fire.

"Do not forget, Mr. Finn, that this is not the first time we have fought this monster either. We went to war alongside you and battled the encroaching darkness as it spread toward our province. When this monster threats Albion, he threatens all of her territory."

"Why does Albion have a province beyond the Mistpeak Mountains? Most of the stories of the Castilian Wars are about soldiers fighting in it, not what it was about."

"Indeed, well, I give you the brief version. Castile was once one of the Eastern Kingdoms. It had expanded and resisted the other Kingdoms, and had spread across the Mistpeak Range. We had many small settlements, and even had jurisdiction over the people of the mountains, known now as the Dwellers. However, after a great deal of tension over the boundaries of the Castilian Kingdom in Alban land, Sparrow would support a weak puppet monarch's bid to the Castilian throne. The war, brutal and horrific for us, showed the might of a united Albion to the Eastern kingdoms. Anyway, the puppet king declared his subservient status and joined Albion as an eastern autonomous province, after ceding leagues of territory and maybe a million people of course." Captain Corada laid down by the fire as he finished his story. The flames starting to roar as Ben threw a heavy log on it and poked the wood around with his sword.

"Wow." Page shook her head, surprised at her lack of knowledge on the subject.

"It's not a well told story," the Castilian started, "Lots of this comes from our lore. I don't doubt its truth, just its meaning. We are autonomous. Albion does nothing but demand land tax, and this is easily and happily paid by most of our citizens. And save declarations of war, we make our own decisions about a wide array of needs. I don't see a problem with Alban rule, any more than our old feudal system."

"That's fair. But it's still strange this is not common knowledge."

"It's faded from people's minds. From the crowning of Logan to the War of the Crawler, too many things have happened for any to remember some small war with the Eastern Kingdoms. Nobody really cares about such boring conflict." Captain Corada sighed and rolled onto his back.

"What…" Ben whispered. He'd long since lost focus on the captain and was staring at what appeared to be a black mass.

"Ben? Is everything alright?"

"Do you see that? Is that a cloud?" Ben pointed to the mass. Captain Corada sat up and squinted at the mass. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he grabbed his armor and sword, putting them on haphazardly.

"Riders! To your mounts! The darkness is here! We must delay it as best we can!" Captain Corada mounted his horse and started to ride to the front of his cavalry, who were already gathering into formation. Page and Ben tried to join him, but he stopped them.

"Hold! You must get to the capital! Go, we will hold the darkness back! Tell the Queen her time is short!"

"Captain…"

"Take what I say to heart. Remember that Castile fights for Albion!" Forming wedge with the knights, Ben could only see the Castilians smash into the darkness in a resounding crash of hoof, blade, and body, before he and Page were out of sight.

"Castile may think itself forgotten, but this act of sacrifice I shall never forget…" Page murmured as they rode away, leaving the riders alone to face pure evil.

* * *

"General Drusus, is your battalion ready?" The Queen asked, standing before her throne.

"Yes ma'm. The Fourth Cavalry, and the Second, Sixth, and Seventh Infantry regiments are all ready to march," Drusus said, turning around and pointing out to a large army gathering in the courtyard of the castle.

"Good. Get the Second and Sixth Corps their relief. You are now in command of the Army of Bloodstone. Do not let me down."

"Of course, we march on the 'morrow. By your leave, your Majesty." Drusus saluted and started out. The Queen rubbed her eyes and turned to find King Louis and Gaston coming toward her.

"All naval forces accounted for. If that monster is using the Alban channel to get to either of our nations, it's going to engage at least some of my ships," The King said, proudly, contemplating his achievement, however minor.

"Excellent." The Queen patted her ally on the shoulder and started toward the war room, where Garth and Reaver were no doubt awaiting.

"You're Majesty, hold a moment." King Louis moved quickly and grabbed the Queen's arm, "My lady, perhaps you should rest a moment. You will undoubtedly be weaker in battle should you press yourself so hard. I find it better to engage in a familiar venture when one is preparing for war, than any manner of military preparation."

"But the darkness is coming, and soon. I cannot simply leave and go to the Sanctuary to spend time with Jasper."

"Why not? You've laid the pieces of this puzzle perfectly, and between our ships, your generals, the provincial leaders…" At that moment, Hobson burst into the throne room, walking majestically toward his patron, "and your prime minister, you'll easily succeed, even if you take a few hours of rest, don't you agree Gaston?"

"Absolutely sir."

"Ah, King Louis, I was actually about to suggest that myself. My lady, it is custom, before marching to war, for the monarch of Albion to offer an official declaration of war to her people. I've prepared a crowd to meet you, along with Drusus and his high ranking officers tomorrow. By issuing a declaration of war, you can not only defend your actions, you can inspire your troops, and present yourself to them as a leader of the people. Please, I implore you to take some time and work on this declaration. That way, you can relax, while still staying productive," Hobson said, waving his arms dramatically through his explanation.

"…hmm…I suppose. Jasper!" The Queen yelled. Her dutiful butler rushed to her side, "I suppose we are being sent to the Sanctuary. Let's get going."

"As you command, my lady. I shall see to your weaponry," Jasper said. She held out her Guild Seal, a small shield as Samuel had explained to her, and as they touched it, they were transported to the famed Sanctuary.

"Yes, now, while her majesty is away, I will need to stand in for her at this meeting with the General's council…" Hobson started to say, before King Louis grabbed his shoulder and stared the old minister down a look of hatred on his face.

"Oh, but Mr. Hobson, how could I not attend such an important event, especially with such an illustrious group of commanders present?" He said coldly, then let Hobson go and held his hand out, directing him to lead the way. Hobson, looking worriedly at the King, ran quickly away, with the monarch in hot pursuit. Gaston was close behind him, and all three entered the room in a burst, turning the heads of the generals in the war room to the three. Garth, who had been carefully explaining some plan to another general, looked up with the similar frown of coldness on his face.

"Where is the queen?" Garth asked, a bit of concern visible on his face.

"Attending to her base need for rest." King Louis offered, moving to look at the map.

"Sleeping? That's ever so unlike our benevolent queen!" Reaver asked, staring judgmentally at Hobson.

"No, working on a declaration of war. Now, gentlemen, I think it's time we went over our plan one more time. Kalin, would you start with the Auroran Corp's plan?" Hobson asked.

"Certainly Mr. Hobson." Kalin leaned in to the table, and the final war meeting before the arrival of the Dueler began.

* * *

"So, what do you feel, hmm, maybe a six this round?"

"Well, Sabine, I think I'm going to risk a good bit of money on this roll. Put this stack on seven," Jasper said, sounding very sure of himself, then leaned back. They had somehow covered the sanctuary map with a game of Keystone, and both were playing as the Queen was sitting to the side, half watching them, half working on her declaration.

"We are pressed to this point…" The Queen whispered. Suddenly Jasper rolled the dice and cheered. Sabine slammed his walking stick on the plush carpet, then ripped the seven away, upon which was a stack of chips.

"That's twelve to one payout, correct?" Jasper said, putting a pipe in his mouth and puffing gently on it.

"Thirteen to one…" Sabine growled, then took a long drag from the cigar in his hand. He uncorked a bottle of spirits and poured himself another drink. The Sanctuary was filling with smoke, and was being treated like a common pub.

"Pressed to this…point…Sabine, how did you get down here again?" The Queen asked, trying to reconcile her private abode with the obnoxious and smoky Sabine.

"Oh come now your majesty. The King and I are old friends. I knew of a number of his secrets, including the unknown passage to the Sanctuary, which Boulder and I found."

"And where's Boulder?"

"Fillin' the passage behind us. The labor is good for him. Besides, I think four's a crowd, don't you? Now, I'm stacking up on triple three. That will pay big this round…hell, it's got to!" Sabine dumped his chips onto the spot, which Jasper dutifully began to count. The butler noticed the Queen still staring at them and looked worriedly to her.

"Ah…would you like anything your majesty? I think I've another pipe and glass in the Sanctuary shop."

"No, thank you Jasper…" The Queen said, pinching her forehead. She looked down at the three sentences she'd written and stood up.

"I…need to talk to Theresa. Maybe…open a window before I get back Jasper…" The Queen said, then rushed onto the Guild Seal and was transported to the path on which Theresa had guided the Queen. Known as the "Road to Rule" it was a strange place where her allies and success, including her ascendancy to the throne, was cataloged. However, as she arrived, she noticed something wrong.

"What the…" She noticed that the gate before her was not open. At least not conventionally. One door of the fence was ripped from its hinges, and the gate beyond it was similarly mutilated. Chests were lying on their sides, and the ground had visible signs of burning. Even worse, the sky of the "Road" was broken, and it was blotted with holes revealing outside light.

"…Theresa!" The Queen ran quickly, pushing through the damaged gates, running as quickly as she could to the image of Bowerstone Castle, which stood at the end of the "Road." Even from a distance, the structure seemed on the verge of collapse.

"Your Majesty…" A whisper came from behind her. The Queen looked back momentarily to see a dark blot forming on the ground.

"No…not here!" The Queen pushed on, and finally reached the castle, where Theresa was lying on her side. Her blank eyes and looked up slowly and sadly at the Queen.

"Its…too late. They've…found my spire…they have…it's power…" The Queen turned from Theresa to see the Dueler form from the ground and hold his spiked hand out.

"Give me the seer!" The Queen drew her sword and pointed it at the monster, ready to fight.

"No! Leave this place damn you!" Suddenly, the Queen felt a searing white pain in her back. She tried to scream but felt a hand over her mouth.

"You were even dumber than Varus! Without a Queen, Albion will be an easy conquest indeed." The woman, who appeared to be Theresa, but suddenly sounded different, allowed the Queen to fall lifelessly to her side. The Queen could move nothing but her mouth and eyes, otherwise, she was paralyzed.

"Who…" The Queen tried. The woman leaned down and grabbed her cheeks.

""My name is Deresa, and my only reason for living is the destruction of the bitch you so selflessly served. However, I have discovered that no matter what I do to her, I can only wound her. She drags on, like life on this forsaken land known as Albion, and she has bound herself so deeply in this land that as long as it exists, she will too. Which is why I'm eliminating it. Without Albion, she won't be able to hide anymore…" Deresa stood up and walked to the Dueler, who leaned its head to her.

"Go, begin my war, Araingee, and end Albion once and for all!"

"Yes, my lady." The creature fell back into the darkness. Deresa turned to the Queen, and knelt down to her again.

"Don't fear for your life, my lady. You will not lose it for a while yet. No, you will watch, as your kingdom burns, then, when Theresa clings to you, as the last hope for living…then, you'll have my permission to die." The Queen's eyes remained cold, either because she was affected by the paralysis or her hatred.

* * *

"My love…" Elliot said, when the Queen entered the room. She turned quickly toward her closet as he reached out for her.

"Are you alright?" Elliot pulled himself out of their bed. It had to somewhere around 6 in the morning, he assumed, from the level of the sun and the hastiness of those around him. The Army was marching at 7, and his wife's speech would see them off.

"Yes…" A familiar voice said from inside the closet. The Queen walked out, dressed in her full regal suit, a long purple waistcoat with a grey chest plate underneath. She slowly placed her crown onto her head.

"I'm fine Elliot. I just had a late night in the Sanctuary. How was your night?"

"…Not as good as the night before," he said with a suggestive smile, leaning back into the bed. She smiled weakly, then turned and left the room, leaving him unsatisfied.

"Darling…why such a hurry…" he whispered as he pulled himself out of bed and into formal clothes.

Reaver smiled cheekily as the Queen appeared.

"Oh, your majesty, what a wonderful day this is! To move with the drums of war, and with me and Garth at your side, no less! I only hope that you'll dare to give me a chance to…"

"Move," the Queen interrupted, pushing Reaver roughly out of the way. Garth eyed her suspiciously, his face the epitome of distrust.

"What has gotten into her?" Reaver asked, scratching his head. He looked to Garth, who was shaking his head as he examined woman.

"I don't know…but something doesn't seem right about her."

"I'd agree…she has far too much curve on her rump!"

"No, not her body Reaver, I'm talking about the way she's moving. She's…"

"Gentlemen!" Hobson yelled to the mage and immortal, prompting both to turn around, "we have business to attend to."

"Indeed…" Garth said. Reaver, still watching the Queen carefully, suddenly dropped his quizzically smile into a disturbed frown, his eyes flashing yellow. He saw what Garth no doubt saw on the Queen, a small trail of black smoke leaking out of her arm.

"Oh dear…we may indeed be in serious trouble…" Reaver said, rubbing his chin worriedly.


	14. Part 3: Chapter 1: The Dueler

Part 3:

Chapter 1

The Dueler

"Ahhh…there you are your majesty! Come, come, here, this is from where you will speak." Hobson pointed dramatically toward the balcony of the castle. The Queen nodded silently then went through the heavy iron doors. In front of her stood a mass of soldiers, noblemen, and commoners from all over Bowerstone. Drusus, who was standing on the balcony, dropped his head in humbleness, and then took his place on the stairs. Reaver and Garth moved past the Queen to stand with him. Elliot, Hobson and King Louis went to the other side, presenting the image of the leadership of Albion. The mass of soldiers and civilians cheered at the sight. The Queen raised her hand, which caused a hush to fall over the crowd.

"Soldiers…citizens…warriors and workers. Heed my warning! This time, two years ago, we were engaged in a bloody war with a monster none here knew or understood. This monster had servants made of shadow, which acted as men do, or worse, acted as great monsters of metal. These things fought us savagely, and if not for your brave sacrifice, your peerless courage, and your dedication to your nation and your crown, we would have fallen then…" the Queen's head fell at this. She suddenly looked up, a devilish smile on her face, "But we did not fall then. It was not to be. Instead," the Queen dramatically raised her hands in excitement, "We defeated the monster, and proved ourselves again as the rulers of this land. Albion's people held and succeeded, as they have always, facing one monster after another, never ceasing in its unrelenting will to exist. But now we have a new challenge. One we must face, as we have so many in the past. I hereby declare, with the support of both my prime minister and the people of Albion, that we will bring war to the Dueler, and use our every ability to banish the darkness once and for all!" A rowdy cheering began, many throwing their hands, hats, and weapons in the air. Garth looked quickly to Reaver and nodded. They began to inch toward the Queen, which she no doubt noticed, as she grew more fiery by the second.

"Dammit, we will not cease! We will not stop until the Dueler is as the Crawler was, a defeated mass which is forever gone from these lands! We will fight any enemy who faces us, any who resist. We go, now, to war…and to all of your dooms!" Suddenly, the Queen drew her sword and stabbed Drusus in the heart and watched as he fell to the side. Garth used a force-push spell to shove Elliot into Hobson and King Louis, sending all three tumbling down the stairs. Reaver jumped into action and pointed his gun directly at her head.

"You would usurp your Queen?" The "supposed" Queen asked, her voice dark and raspy.

"Hmm…" Reaver touched his chin sarcastically, "Yes!" Reaver shot three times in quick succession, all of which went right through the monster. It began to laugh as it shifted into its true form. The crowd in front of the castle began to roar as citizens ran out of the gardens and soldiers lined up with rifles raised.

"The Dueler is here!"

"Run! The Crawler's spawn returns!"

"It's too late!" The Dueler solidified completely, revealing itself. It was a towering monster twice the size of the average man. Its fingers were long, sharp spikes and it flailed them wildly as it roared. Its lower body was simply the abdomen of a spider, a long hairy torso with eight equally sharp, spiked legs. Its face was that of the Crawlers, four eyes on a round head with a dramatic spiked frill. Its teeth were a perfectly fitting set of spikes, which it revealed as it roared in hatred.

"Steady men, take aim!" the thickly mustached Alban officers yelled. The Dueler burst through the stone balcony and into the soldier's line, sending most into a panic.

"Quickly! Do not let it escape!" Garth yelled, launching a great fireball at the monster. It batted the fireball away and sent it into a castle turret, leaving a huge singe mark on the stone.

"Hold…Garth, you must command the men. We…need to be ready to respond…" Drusus struggled. Garth rushed to him and held his arm.

"We'll get you inside. Elliot, Hobson, you must take care of the General. King Louis, Reaver, to me. Rally the men!"

"At once, General Garth." Reaver said slyly, then turned to the soldiers, "Men, quick march! Lively now, tight formations, lines of five or less through the gate." The soldiers got into their lines and started to exit the castle in quick motion, leaving the area empty. Garth and Reaver hurried to the head of the columns, with King Louis and Gaston at their sides.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Reaver. Your reputation as a pirate and businessman made it hard for me to imagine you as a general," King Louis yelled. Reaver glanced back with a shrewd smile and looked at Garth.

"I'm as suprised as any, your majesty. It has been some time since I was a General, back in the Castilian Wars."

"You fought in the Castilian Wars? I was but a child when those occurred. How many years do you carry?"

"Many more than you can imagine. Speaking of Castilians, here comes a set of cataphats now. No doubt offering…"

"Page!" Garth said, rushing past the group to his niece. She stopped her steed and dismounted quickly, holding her weapon.

"Good, the army is marching. The darkness is already in Albion. It's come up through Wraithmarsh and is almost at Millfields, assuming the Castilians held it off."

"What? The darkness already at Millfields…wait Castilians?" Garth said in confusion.

"They fought in the War of the Crawler too Garth, don't be alarmed," Reaver interjected, helping Ben off his horse in a half-heartedly fashion, "Now, we have, as you can see, prepared a rather large force, which is no doubt enough to begin engaging the Dueler, so let's formulate our strategy. The Dueler wanted to remove the commanding members of our army; which is exactly what it was hinting at by calling her Varus. The Crawler took over Varus's form and killed his lieutenants, and now the dueler tried to do the same. However, the Dueler obviously didn't take her form, she is probably a hostage somewhere."

"What do you mean? And where is the Queen?" Page asked.

"Excellent question." Reaver said, looking to Garth, "You got any magic that could help us with that?" Garth rolled his eyes and pushed the immortal aside.

"Page, the Dueler posed as the Queen and started to give her declaration of war then took off, now going to lead the invasion. It tried to kill all of the generals but only Drusus was injured. Our survival has prevented the collapse of leadership which occurred under General Varus."

"And yet, dear Garth, we still need a strategy."

"Indeed. Since the Dueler is returning with an army, I say we prepare for it to attack us. Gather our forces and start digging trenches. We'll split the force in half, Reaver you'll lead those on the northern part of the trenches with Gaston. Page, you'll flank to the them from the far north with what cavalry we have. King Louis, you and I will lead the southern half. Ben, gather what artillery we have and establish our right flank. Any questions?" At that moment, Sabine arrived, Boulder and Jasper behind him.

"What the hell's going on? The Queen hasn't even returned from treating with that seer woman and you're already marching to battle?" Sabine said, somewhat angered.

"Where is the Queen?" Page said, grabbing Sabine's collar.

"If Sabine knows, then we'll find out soon enough. But if we don't repel the Dueler it doesn't matter what we do," Garth yelled.

"Right." Page released Sabine then looked out to the battlefield. Sabine glared up at Boulder, who shrugged unsurely.

"Sabine, you and Jasper return to the castle. There is much that needs taking care of there."

"You would take us from the battle and have us whimper like children in the..." Sabine started. Garth leaned in close and spoke in a deadly cold tone.

"No, I would have you as a last line of defense, protecting the Prince Zachary and the other children from being captured or killed." Sabine growled but Jasper started to lead him away.

"Good luck, all of you." Jasper quickly took off with a still grumbling Sabine and Boulder following him. Garth turned back to the others.

"Our time is short! We must prepare trenches!"

* * *

A dark overcast covered the sky, and a deep blackness was all that was visible in the distance. Garth stood on top of one trench hill, King Louis behind him. Reaver stood on the other, leaning on his cane and his gun in his hand. He'd traded his normally fine clothes for a harness that held several wheel lock pistols that, in Reaver's own words "Are for such occasions where it is simply too bothersome to reload." Gaston was with him, his huge hammer resting on his shoulders, his plate and chain armor glinting in the sparse light. Reaver had a look of a soldier, but also that of hero. _"Dammit, I'm about to die, probably at his side. I suppose I can let go of some of my coldness." _Garth moved to the edge of his trench and waved to Reaver, who came to him, still standing on the edge of his trench.

"Everything good?"

"No, we're likely to die. But, I need to say that I missed your smirking, stupid face. Samarkand is…was beautiful…but you…made it a great deal more exciting." Garth struggled to speak the words, almost coughing toward the end.

"Oh, Garth…I'm touched. You would reveal your true feelings to me at such a time. It's right out of a child's story." Reaver leaned back, smirking. Garth felt anger bubble toward his narcissist friend and started to return to his spot when Reaver tapped his back. Garth turned around to find Reaver's hand out, waiting to be shaken.

"I've told you before, but I missed you as well, my dear, dreary friend. While I plan to continue living forever, I'll say I'd rather die at your side than any other's Garth."

"…the same to you, friend." Garth shook the immortal's hand. He turned back, and to stood next to King Louis. The man was leaning on his royal sword, the Dachi in it's hilt at his side, and he was smiling at the mage. Garth shot him a dark look and King Louis simply smiled.

"Don't worry mage, we all have to say our goodbyes, to which men and gods we care to. My wife and my daughter hide in Francian forts as I stand here, fighting so that they don't have too. I lost my life some time ago."

"I'm sorry to ruin the sentiment, your majesty, but I don't plan to die here, or let you do the same."

"Hmm...I'm glad for this. You've proved your worth, to Francia as much as Albion. If we survive, you'll be welcome in my land."

"Thank you, your majesty..."

"Now, who is going to strike first, us or them..." the king said, looking up at the sky. Garth couldn't help but smile as put Sparrow's gauntlet on one hand, then his chained creation on the other.

"Us," Garth muttered. With a single clap, he brought a storm to form over the battlefield. The clouds became truly dark and rain started to pour over the battlefield. Thunder and lighting burst from the storm as Garth glanced back once more at Reaver, the immortal no doubt smiling widely at Garth. Beyond him Page was on her horse, surrounded by the red coated mounted soldiers of the small Alban cavalry. Garth looked far to his left, where Ben stood at the head of the artillery unit. He held Harriet's rifle in his hands, which he had to his face, trained on the approaching blackness. Garth raised his hand, and all the men, who peaked out of their trenches, brought their guns to their faces.

"Fire on my command, and only then. Men, soldiers, today, we fight not just for Albion. We fight for the future of life in this world. Here, we will stop this attack, and we will push it back. We will stop this darkness once and for all! I've fought these things in Samarkand. You've fought them on your home soil. Now we stand together, Albion, Aurora, Francia, Castile, and Samarkand. Let us show this darkness what a united world can do! To war!" The soldiers answered him with a round of cheers. Garth turned back to the blackness, which was solidifying into several streams. They began to slither and slip back and forth, approaching the soldiers rapidly.

"Ready! Aim!" Garth started to power fire into Sparrow's gauntlet, which the mage held in the air.

"Garth, join your brothers!" The streams suddenly jumped from the ground toward the man.

"Fire!" Garth brought his hand down. The streams were filled with bullets as the riflemen fired, the roar deafening all around it. Garth drew his hand back and continued to build fire.

"Change lines!" He yelled. The soldiers who'd fired shuffled back while fresh men raised their weapons in preparation.

"Fire!" Garth yelled, though this was more to himself, as he built up a large fireball over his head and launched it into one stream. The ball crashed into the darkness in a massive explosion, which sent the steam retreating like a cut tentacle of a squid.

"Ben! Shoot them!" Ben raised his rifle and the cannons were firing, sending cannonballs crashing into the streams. Many retreated, but some pushed forward and tried for the trenches.

"Back away!" Garth's will lines were blinding him as he powered this spell, chanting in the tongue of the old kingdom, and as he raised his chained gauntlet in the air, lighting started to strike the field wildly from the sky. Streams of darkness were blasted left and right, ones caught by the actual bolts simply turned to ash. Garth finished the spell with a deep breath, coughing in pain. King Louis started to cautiously approach him, but the mage threw his hand up.

"Quickly, keep on them. Don't worry about me!"

"...Soldiers!" King Louis said, looking back to the men, "Change lines and fire!" The soldiers shifted position and another round of bullets was launched into the streams, which started to fully retreat.

"Cannons, fire!" Ben yelled, and another round of balls crashed into the darkness. It withdrew all streams and began to consolidate.

"Yes! We've beaten it!" King Louis said. Garth grabbed his hand and pulled himself up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Your majesty…we're just starting!" Suddenly black circles formed all across the field. Crows rose from the circles and flew in giant flocks, blocking out the sky.

"Soldiers turn your weapons up!" King Louis screamed.

"Watch the ground," Garth grunted, pointing the king to the mass of shadow soldiers which were forming from the circles.

"Oh dear…" King Louis said, letting his royal sword fall to his side, "This could take some time…"

* * *

The Queen saw him draw the Dachi and twirl the weapons in preparation for the birds. She moved her head weakly away from the viewing glass toward the woman who'd posed as Theresa. The woman was now covered in a black cloak with a number of silver necklaces on her chest. She had grey eyes similar to Theresa, but she seemed almost corrupted. The Queen was frozen below her neck, and could not do anything but watch. She swallowed weakly, then tried to speak.

"Who…who are you…Deresa…"

"Her majesty speaks! Dearest me, I was worried I'd damaged her mind with my spells."

"Who…"

"You need not concern yourself with me. But what you will feel is anguish, anguish in watching as your kingdom is blackened and a final vengeance is wrought on the shores of Albion. Your people will pay, and so will she,"

"Why do you hate us…what did she…Theresa…do?"

"What did she do?! What didn't she do?! Abandoned, cold, hungry, that witch…No, you almost convinced me to tell you, but not yet. When Albion burns, and all that remains of your kingdom is its queen, then I'll tell you who I am, and my reasons for living. But for now, return to your viewing. The battle is only just beginning." The woman turned from the Queen and moved back to her position on the steps, intently watching the battle unfolding. The Queen swallowed weakly then looked back as Garth channeled energy for a great spell.


	15. Part 3: Chapter 2: The Fall of Benjamina

Chapter 2

The Fall of Benjamina

"Here come the blasted crows. Get on top of the trenches and ready yourselves! First line!" Reaver yelled, waving his hand wildly forward. He drew his pistol and shot a few times at the mass of birds, which organized into a sharp wedge formation and flew directly at Garth.

"Quickly now! Ready...Fire!" the soldiers who'd lined up on top of the trench with Reaver, fired into the mass of crows. The birds turned quickly and reformed into a wedge, all approaching Reaver. He turned with his gun and pointed to his soldiers.

"Second line, forward!"

The forward men shuffled off the trench to reload and were replaced by other soldiers, who raised their guns and fired into the wedge. The birds broke off and seemed to retreat, but turned in the air and reformed the wedge, coming down even faster. Reaver drew his sword cane and twirled the weapon. Gaston, who Reaver forgot was next to him, raised his hammer and growled, startling the immortal.

"Ah…yes…you're still there. Anyway, soldiers, affix bayonets or draw your blades if you have them." Reaver slashed the three leading crows, breaking their formation. The birds broke from the formation and began individual battles with Reaver's men. Gaston took out three with one swing, covering Reaver in demonic feathers.

"Watch where you're aiming that thing." The immortal cried, dodging a diving bird and slashing it as it passed him.

Garth saw this from his position on the opposite side of the trenches, and turned back to the shadows, which were now pouring out soldiers and golden bird monsters. Garth raised his hands, now filled with fiery power, and thrust them forward.

"Soldiers, advance!" Garth yelled, launching his spell. Instead of a giant ball, the landscape was blanketed by a wave of fire, which opened a path for the soldiers to rush into the shadowy lines. Most of the dark soldiers were caught in the all-consuming flames, but as soon as the fires died, the shadows formed into tower like structures and the dark army continued sweeping out, meeting the Albans head on and creating a gigantic melee. Garth jumped into the fray, blasting dark soldiers with various spells of wind, ice, fire, and lightning. He summoned swords around himself constantly, the ethereal blades striking the shadow soldiers almost as soon as they formed. However, this army was lacking a key trait which Garth remembered clearly from his battles in Samarkand. Garth heard the thunderous step, and turned to see it, a tall golden monster, wielding a great sickle and with purple glowing eyes. It roared at Garth then charged toward him. The mage jumped out of way just in time to see it send several of his soldiers to the ground.

"Ah, another one of you, bringers of darkness and summoner of evil, a sentinel. Come face me!" Garth cast an ice spell, turning the burning field into a frozen landscape and sending the evil incarnate slipping and tripping to the ground. Garth rushed to finish it but it summoned a dark portal around itself and appeared behind the mage. Garth tried to stop mid charge and turn, but slipped on his own ice and fell right before the monster. It looked down at him, yelled an indecipherable but horrifying phrase, and then unsuccessfully tried to slam the mage into the ground. Garth used a fire spell to propel himself away and dodged the sickle blade several times, but the creature raced after him, melting the ice with some strange magic as it went. Garth saw several of these creatures had started attacking his troops, but this one seemed almost exclusively focused on him. Garth stood and used a force push to jump back as the sentinel summoned a hole of darkness. Crows burst from the hole and darted for Garth. The mage, unfazed, sent a cone of fire blazing from his hand, incinerating the vile birds. In the process, he also launched a magic sword through the sentinel's leg, sending the monster to the ground on one knee. Garth rushed forward and shocked the monster, then hit it with a vortex, lifting it from the ground and sending it spinning. He held his hands up and stabbed it with several more swords charged with electricity, fire and ice. The dying monster crashed into the ground, then lifted itself up weakly. It was on its knees, appearing defeated, but suddenly jumped out opening a hole on its face and launching birds. Garth, unfazed, held out his hand, and a bolt of lightning flew from the sky and destroyed the armor and the birds, releasing a howling spirit which flew back into the darkness in the distance. Garth stepped back from it the pile of armor, as if he was at a funeral instead of the middle of a battlefield. He stood like this for a moment before he was sent flying by a wild attack, which sent him crashing into Reaver.

"Dammit Garth, what are you doing? Pay attention!" The immortal grunted, shooting one shadowy soldier in the head, and then hitting a golden minion several times in its helmet. Garth simply watched the immortal, who looked like a professional soldier.

"What, do I have demonic feather in my hair or something? Blame the Francian..." Reaver was interrupted by the arrival of the Dueler. The monster towered over them, his huge, clawed hands and spider body horrifying both of the men.

"Reaver, good to see you again. It's been far too long..." The monster leaned in closely to the immortal. Reaver leaned back as far as he could.

"I'd have to disagree...in fact I'd say it's been almost too short...you can't rush these kinds of meetings." Reaver drew another pistol and shot two rounds at the Dueler, hitting it in the face. It roared in anguish, swiping with its claws and hitting the immortal back into the troops behind him. It then grabbed Garth and threw him into the army on its other side. He raced over to Reaver, killing several soldiers along the way, and tried to stab at the immortal, but the Hero of Skill was able to dodge this attack with help from Page. The entire Alban cavalry rode dramatically into the Dueler, striking several of its appendages and making it howl in pain. Reaver saw a light form on Page's arm, which made the Dueler reel back in pain. Page roared as she took Avo's Lamentation and struck the face of the monster. It cried and threw its hands over its head. When it lowered its arms, Garth could see a large scar through two of its eyes. It turned in anger and slashed at the cavalry, sending several riders flying, horses and all. After surviving the first charge, it raised itself up and summoned a wall of darkness to keep the riders out. Soon, three other walls formed around Reaver and the Dueler, and he smiled as he looked at the immortal.

"My dear Reaver, you would be quite a catch. Imagine if I controlled you, as my servant. Come...let the darkness consume you." However, the Dueler forgot one important angle and was hit with a bolt of lightning from above.

"Get away from him you Skorm damned beast!" Garth yelled over the wall. He summoned a gigantic fireball and burned through one of the walls of darkness then rushed the monster, his Will lines glowing like a beacon in the dark. It tried to recover from the lighting and threw its arm out, grabbing Garth and throwing him into the wall to its left. Reaver jumped forward with his sword cane and slashed the legs of the monster, causing it to fall. He twirled the weapon, then stabbed it in the head, making it yell out in pain. Immediately the walls fell, and the Dueler struggled to run, but Garth drew it back with a force push. It turned to the two, its dark form leaking viscous black ooze, its face marked by a long ugly scar, its pure black eyes seeming to drive deep into each of their hearts.

"You will be mine!" It cried in a last desperate yell. Darkness struck both Garth and Reaver, making them immobile as the monster raced forward. Ben and Page tried to cut the beast off, but both were knocked aside by sentinels. As the Dueler charged, it suddenly fell, and on top of it stood King Louis, wielding his two swords, one Alban, the other Francian. He drew his swords up and stabbed the creature in its arachnid abdomen. His champion, Gaston, struck the monster in its scar with his hammer, making it cry loudly in pain. Page, using a full flourish, broke the sentinel attacking her in half, and Ben Finn hit his opponent with gunshots into both of its eyes, making it fall and collapse in defeat. The Dueler, like a wounded spider, crawled and squirmed away from the King and Gaston, and Garth and Reaver were released from its dark spells. Now the Dueler was surrounded, Gaston, King Louis, Reaver, Garth, Page, and Ben all held their weapons to the monster. The battle raged behind them, and the Alban army seemed to actually be making progress against the darkness, forcing it to fall back.

"You cannot win, this is but a false victory." Dueler yelled, struggling. It squirmed and worked itself away from the heroes, but was much too far from the darkness to reach it.

"I disagree. The only one who is gaining false victories is you. Try and try as you might, your victories are always hollow; your successes are always meaningless. You cannot conquer our kingdoms, Albion, Francia, Samarkand, we will not be defeated. We will not fall!" Garth said. He, matching the Dueler's spells, summoned a wall of light, which the Dueler turned from and looked back to the heroes.

"Indeed, you tried to kill us, Hammer and I, I mean." Reaver added, "when we were embattled with Castilians during the war. And yet, not only did we both survive; we won the battle in the end, and destroyed your darkness! Castile is our province, and Albion is still strong!" Reaver said somewhat proudly, turning all eyes toward him.

"I've never even heard you claim Albion as home before just now, or even talk of it so heroically before," Page said in confusion. Reaver waved her away.

"Well I am, don't let it go to your heads."

"I agree, don't underestimate his treachery, he doesn't care for you. In fact, he'd turn on you in just a heartbeat. Why do you think Oakvale is nothing but a well of banshees and hollow men?" The Dueler lunged out and knocked the most of the heroes away. He rushed at Reaver then fell, falling from a crushing blow from Gaston, the only one left standing.

"Who are you? Some tradesman's son who won some contest and now acts as a member of a dead order of warriors?" Gaston momentarily froze in shock, then regained his composure and held his hammer out.

"Your dark influence cannot corrupt me demon."

"Hmm…then how about I seize your form. You'd be a good tool until I gain Reaver." The Dueler rushed the man, who dodged masterfully and twisted in a beautiful move and knocked the Dueler's two right legs from under it. The monster collapsed onto one side, but it threw its last leg out and kicked Gaston to the ground. The monster turned, roaring, and a stinger appeared from its abdomen. The thing dripped a sickly fluid, and the Dueler stabbed it at Gaston. Though the champion rolled as best he could out of the way, it finally found its mark, and drove deep into the man's back. As he drew the stinger out, Gaston lifted himself quickly and hit the monster's face again. However, as he turned to make another move, he suddenly fell to his knees, a small bit of foam dripping from his mouth.

"Pu…poi…"

"Poison, fool." The Dueler uttered darkly as he knocked the man aside. He turned and saw his true target, Reaver, was now standing, with his pistol aimed at the monster.

"Come on then!" Reaver yelled, cocking the weapon, his eyes glowing yellow.

"Alright! Let's see who's quicker!" Reaver saw something moving in his peripheral vision but could only glance away for a moment before the Dueler jumped forward and shifted into a black mist. However, just as he refocused on the incoming monster, a woman, wearing a long red dress and with tight red buns jumped out.

"Reaver, no!" Benjamina screamed as she was hit by the Dueler, its misty form sliding into her mouth and nose and ears. Reaver, still in the motion of reacting to the Dueler's attack, fired his pistol and hit Benjamina in the back of the head, the lead ball causing brain matter and blood to burst from her skull and send her to the ground.

"Rea...ver," she uttered, then was still.


End file.
